Collapse
by Hollysgirl
Summary: It's nearing Christmas in the lab and Nick and Sara are closer than ever. Could it be love? It's going to take the collapse of one of them to find out. Snickers with a touch of YoBling x x
1. C: 1

A/N Hi everybody. Here's my next attempt. I hope you enjoy it. 

Disclaimer: I own nothing – nothing! Sob!

**Collapse **

**C: 1 **

It was late December – two days before Christmas – and the weather in Las Vegas was icy. Snow was expected and a muffled, close fog had settled over the county like a giant woollen blanket. Nightmarish wind howled around the buildings and over the desert. Most people were at home in bed, while others were out in cosy shops, buying the last of their Christmas gifts – but not the graveyard shift of the LVPD Crime Lab.

Sara Sidle cringed in the front seat of the Tahoe as she felt another coughing fit coming on. Lurching forward in her seat, she covered her mouth as the coughs wracked her body. Eventually, it subsided and Sara sat up again, casually brushing her hair back from her face. A bottle of water appeared at her shoulder and she accepted it, casting a grateful look back at Greg Sanders, who smiled at her from the back seat.

"You okay Sara?" Nick Stokes asked, his eyes darting from the road to glance worriedly at her.

Sara nodded, "Yeah."

"Gotta stop smoking that crack, huh Sidle?" Greg mocked from behind her.

Sara scowled back at him then grinned wryly. "I will when you stop dealing it Greggo," she said smoothly.

"Touché." Greg smiled. Sara chuckled. She'd fast learnt to keep up with Greg's quick retorts and now enjoyed the occasional banter with him. Beside her, she heard Nick chuckle lightly and her heart flushed with warmth.

"We there yet?" Greg whined, leaning in between their seats like an impatient child.

"Nah. Still gonna be at least 10 minutes in this traffic," Nick responded grimly.

Sara sighed irritably. She hated waiting – especially when it was because last-minute Christmas shoppers were crowding the roads. A low growl issued from her stomach and she dug a hand into her jacket pocket, fishing out a cherry lollipop. Her head had begun to grow fuzzy since they'd left the lab and it was beginning to bother her: she wanted to be sharp at a crime scene. Sara guessed it was because she'd missed 'breakfast'. She pushed the wrapper into the car's ashtray and popped the sweet into her mouth twirling the stick happily and savouring the sweetness.

"Returning to your childhood, Sar?" Greg's voice interrupted her pleasure.

"Ha ha Greg. Ha ha," Sara said flatly, masking the ripple of dread that sped through her at the mention of her childhood. "It's actually because I worked a double last night and spent the whole day arguing with my electrics company. The power in my building went out last night – and everyone thinks it's because of something in _my_ apartment. The fact that I wasn't there last night – and can thus not have caused the short – means nothing to the super. Plus, when they finally discovered it was actually a damaged cable in the apartment above mine, the company kept sending these totally inept guys to fix the problem. I couldn't cook anything the whole day. When I decided to give up and head out for something, I got Grissom's call about getting to the lab early. So here I am. I feel like I haven't slept or eaten in days."

"Actually," Nick said, "It's been quite a while since you've had time off."

"Going on four weeks," Sara said glumly.

"Damn," Greg said, "What are you doing here, girl?"

"Not giving Ecklie any more reasons to fire me. We all know he's just looking for a reason." Sara said.

"Ass," Nick muttered darkly from beside her. Sara sighed. She held the lollipop in her cheek and took a final sip of the water before passing it back to Greg.

"Thanks."

"My pleasure," Greg peered over at Sara and grinned. He tapped Nick's shoulder and the Texan cast a glance in his partner's direction. He smiled.

"What?" Sara asked, immediately frowning.

"Your sweet," Greg explained, "No lipstick can give you that shade of red."

Sara reached up and flipped the mirror down. She gasped: her lips were blood red.

Nick blinked, "Hey! That colour actually suits you," he said with a wink.

Sara blushed, "Thanks Tricky Nick, but I think I'll stick with Revlon."

Nick chuckled and turned his eyes back to the road. They didn't stay there long, however. Soon, he caught himself sliding his eyes over to steal another glance at the brunette CSI beside him. Slowly, he took in her jeans and navy long-T. Both fitted her seamlessly. After a brief glance at the road, his eyes returned, this time to her face. Her skin was pale, unusual for Sara, who usually glowed healthily, but Nick reasoned it was something to do with the icy weather that had descended on Vegas. The redness of her lips made her dark eyes glow a deeper, warmer brown as they scanned the case file Grissom had given them. The lights from outside the Tahoe slid over her hair, making it shine silkily. Nick was suddenly overcome with a desperate desire to reach over to Sara. He stayed dead still, however, forcing his eyes to focus forward on the tar zooming beneath them. A relationship with Sara was a pipe dream. And, he reasoned, even if she was interested, Ecklie was watching her like a hawk. A relationship within the team was exactly the 'inappropriate behaviour' he needed to be permanently rid of Sara. No, Nick decided, he would have to keep his feelings to himself.

xxx

Sara shivered and pulled her Forensics jacket tighter around her body as she got out of the Tahoe. Her breath came out in thick mist as she breathed in the icy night air. It caught in her throat and Sara gripped her car door for support as another coughing fit seized her body. She felt a supportive hand on her back and turned to see Nick, his eyes filled with concern.

"Sara? You okay?"

"Of course," she smiled dismissively.

"You don't sound okay. Maybe you've overdone it. You should go back to the lab and get some time off – this cold can't be good for that cough."

"Nick," Sara raised an eyebrow, giving him 'the look'.

Nick smiled and shook his head, "You're incorrigible, Sidle."

Sara smiled back and shrugged. Her eyes locked with his and she became suddenly aware of herself. His hand hadn't left her back; blood was rushing to her head; God, he had striking eyes. She wanted to lose herself in them. Sara wasn't used to the concern Nick was showing for her, but she liked it. His eyes stayed locked with hers, radiating concern and comfort, but also something else. What was that? God, she didn't care. For the first time in ages, Sara Sidle felt the need to throw herself into another's arms and sob away her problems, let all of her worries loose. It was in that moment that Sara realised it: she was completely head-over-heels in love with Nick Stokes.

Sara wrenched her gaze from his, hurling it into the ground. Crime scene! Crime scene! Her mind screamed, focus on the crime scene!

"Uh, guys? Crime scene?" Greg's voice came as if he'd heard her thoughts. Beside Sara, Nick grunted and turned away.

Without another glance at him, Sara turned to pull her kit from the Tahoe. "Yeah. Grissom said the body was tied to one of the jetty support poles," she said. By the time she looked back to Nick, he had moved off and was following Greg towards the huge body of water that was Lake Mead.

Sara caught up with them as they stood at the water's edge. Brass came walking over from a group of policemen and nodded to greet them.

"Body was spotted by a helicopter passing over. Nobody's been near it yet so it's all yours," he explained.

"Over there," Nick said, shining his torch on a square, dock-like jetty to their left. The torchlight caught the bloodied and bruised form of a woman, lashed to the jetty's pole.

"The water level's lower than the vic – only reaches her waist," Sara commented. "Suggests the killer was on the jetty when he put her there."

"But…there still might be evidence in the water around that pole," Nick said, raising an eyebrow mischievously in Sara's direction. She quickly caught on and grinned.

"I nominate Greg!" she said quickly, grateful that they'd been able to avoid any discomfort from the 'moment' they'd had a few seconds earlier.

"Ditto that," Nick intoned, grinning.

Greg cast a disdainful look at the icy water then scowled back at the two CSIs. "You've got to be kidding me." They shook their heads.

"We need to check for evidence before the body is moved," Sara explained.

"Suit up newbie!" Nick said with a sly grin.

Greg pouted and dragged himself back to the Tahoe.

Nick winked at Sara before raising his camera to take a shot of the jetty. Sara glanced around, shining her torch where her eyes went.

"This side of the lake is pretty isolated," she commented, slowly walking and shining her torch on the ground in front of her.

"Perfect place for a murder," Nick replied, snapping the camera.

"Brass said earlier that the only place of residence on this side is on old house, 'bout half a mile from here." Sara took a cautious step onto the jetty. It gave a grumpy creak and she paused.

"Well that doesn't sound too stable," Nick commented.

"Then how did our killer drag the vic – possibly struggling – over it?" Sara questioned with a frown. She took another cautious step, moving carefully over to the edge, just above the pillar where the woman was tied and scanning the boards with her torch. A red flash-

"I've got blood here!" Sara called, crouching. When Nick didn't answer, she cast her eyes in his direction.

"Ha ha!" Laughter rose in Sara. Nearby, Nick turned the camera and took a shot. From the inside of his head-to-toe red wetsuit, Greg scowled.

"You look like an inflamed seal!"

Sara chuckled and raised an eyebrow, "Little Greg, all covered in rubber, hmmmm."

"Cut it out!" Greg grumbled, pausing to pull on a pair of gloves.

Sara turned back to the blood and swabbed a sample, pocketing it. She stood to continue searching, moving slowly over the jetty until she reached its centre. Nick walked over towards her, headed for the vic's pole. Suddenly a loud crack rang out from beneath them. The weak jetty boards collapsed, plunging Nick and Sara into the icy water below.

A/N Soooo, let me know what you think - i'd lurve to know!


	2. C: 2

**Hey everyone! Thanks for the super feedback - i appreciate it!**

Solomynne- thanks for the correction: i'm something of a geek too and i want to be correct. living in SA leaves me guessing sometimes so thanks for the tip - the prob is being fixed asap!

**C: 2**

From his position on the ground, Greg looked up to find only four poles sticking out of the water. Broken shards of wood were floating where the deck used to be. Nick burst through the floating debris, gasping for air. It was Greg's turn to laugh.

"My rubber's looking a whole lot more attractive now, huh Nicky?"

Nick glared at him and said through chattering teeth, "Ha. Ha. Where's Sara?"

Greg's smile disappeared and he scanned the water worriedly. At that moment, a pale hand broke the water, shoving the floating planks aside.

"Sara!" Nick shouted, hastily paddling over to her. Sara instinctively gripped his arm for support as she gasped for air.

"Ugh!" she sputtered, spitting out some water.

"You okay?" Greg called.

"Yeah. But now our evidence is floating in tiny pieces."

"We'll have to save what we can." Nick held the waterlogged camera up and sighed. "No chance of saving these pics." From nearby, Brass came rushing over.

"What the hell happened?" he called to them, briefly glancing at Greg's ridiculous state and smirking.

"Jetty collapsed. It's obviously not as stable as we thought," Nick explained.

"At least the vic's still there," Sara said casting a glance at the four poles, still standing solidly. She wrapped her arms around herself, "God. This water's freezing. I-" her words were cut short as another rasping cough claimed her body. Nick quickly wrapped an arm around her waist to support her – nobody could tread water and cough like that at the same time. When it subsided, she gave a miserable sniff and cast him a grateful glance.

"C'mon Sar, you'd better get outta this cold water," he said.

"But Nick – the evidence?"

"Never mind that!" Brass called, "It's what we train dive teams for! Get yourselves out of that water!" He turned to a uniform standing nearby, "Get me some blankets!"

"Dive teams?" Greg questioned, "I'm off the hook!"

"Sorry Greggo," Brass said, "we still need a CSI to supervise and since you're already in that cute suit of yours, it looks as if that's gonna be you."

Greg pulled a face but nodded. One look at Nick and Sara told him that there was no question of either of them taking his job

Nearby, Nick and Sara paddled in to the shore and rose from the water, both shivering. Nick gripped Sara's hand and put an arm around her.

"Nick?" Sara questioned, surprised at the protective gesture.

Suddenly aware of his closeness, Nick blushed, "Sorry! I – uh… you didn't look so hot so I was- uh- just worried, I guess."

Sara smiled warmly at him. Feeling brave, she said, "It's okay. I…appreciate it. Thanks for caring."

Their eyes met again. This time Sara didn't look away. He was concerned about her? Could this mean…? She didn't need to rationalise it, Nick's eyes were speaking volumes and that strange emotion had returned. Slowly, his hand left hers, reaching for her face, drawing her closer to him. Suddenly, Sara keeled over and a fierce cough attacked her body. She straightened up with a sniff and a shrug to respond to Nick's concerned eyes – and to mask her own disappointment as the loss of a potentially close moment.

"Sara…"

"I'm fine Nick," she cut him off with a voice that was more prickly than she had intended. She smiled apologetically. "I'm fine – really." She said softly.

Nick frowned and brought his hand up to her forehead. "No you're not. You're burning up."

"That's just because your hands are cold from the water," Sara smiled, shrugging. "The only thing wrong with me is that I'm covered in freezing, stinky lake water."

Nick ignored the joke and looked deep into her eyes, "Please Sara, take care of yourself."

Sara's smile faded, "It's nothing serious Nick. Just a cough."

"I know, but just in case it might be, go back to the lab – then home. You obviously need rest. If not for yourself then," Nick put on a puppy face, "for me?"

Sara raised an eyebrow in surprise at his new tactic. "Sorry Nicky. You're real cute, but I can't. The lab Christmas party is in two days and I want to finish this case."

Nick shrugged, "Can't blame me for trying." One of Brass's men came hurrying up to them carrying blankets and Nick put a friendly arm around Sara.

"Come on you, let's get outta this pond scum," he joked, knowing _that_ suggestion was something to which Sara would never disagree.

Back at the Tahoe, David waved to Sara and Nick.

"I hear you two went for a swim."

"Yeah. Greg's waiting on some divers to help him retrieve the jetty shards. We're going to head back to the lab to see if we can salvage anything from my camera and a swab of blood Sara took." Nick said, holding up the waterlogged Panasonic.

"Well, as soon as they're done, I'll collect the body. Once the Doc's done the preliminary autopsy, I'll page you," David said with a smile.

"Thanks," Sara said, smiling. David frowned and cocked his head to the side.

"You okay Sara? You don't look so great…"

Sara rolled her eyes and let out an irritable sigh. "I'm fine. Just wet."

xxx

"Ugh! God, you smell terrible!" Catherine wrinkled her nose as Sara entered the break room, carrying a bag of her and Nick's wet clothes.

"Thanks," Sara said flatly.

"What happened?"

"The jetty our vic was tied to? It broke."

"Oh…" Catherine pulled a face and made her eyes big.

"Argh!" Sara slumped in a chair. "We lost everything. Anything that might have been probative is probably gone."

"What about the body?"

"Luckily only the middle broke. The poles are still standing."

Nick put his head in the door and smiled at Catherine. "Hey Cath! Sara, the Doc just paged me about the preliminary COD – asphyxia. Funny thing is, she also had a knife wound to the chest and numerous small cuts on her neck- pre-mortem."

"Did he give you a ten card?" Sara said, getting up from her seat and going to him.

"Yup, prints are running through AIFS now."

"Great, let's go." Sara waved to Catherine and followed Nick from the room.

Minutes later, she was seated at the computer, beside Nick.

"Prints came back to a Melanie Porter." Sara said, "She was rounded up for vandalism in high school back in '95 but nothing since then."

"Residence? Married?" Nick asked, leaning over her shoulder to scan the screen.

"Married. To a Michael Porter, age 30. Lives just off the strip." Sara commented, shivering with pleasure at the nearness of Nick to her body.

"Nothing fishy there," Nick said, standing up.

"Hang on a sec," Sara said, typing furiously, "There were several complaints from their neighbours over the last few weeks – loud noises, shouting: some suspected domestic abuse. Investigation pending."

Sara snorted as she scanned the screen, "_Investigation pending_. Domestic violence waits for nobody," she said, disgust evident in her voice.

Nick raised an eyebrow at her reaction but said nothing. "Perhaps it's time for us to pay Melanie's loving husband a visit?"

xxx

"Look. Mel and I have – had- a rocky time holding our marriage together over the last while. I've been working overtime – trying to keep my business afloat. Mel, well, she got sick and tired of me never being around and found someone else. Some cheating Romeo out at Mead. At first I didn't suspect anything, but when she started spending every weekend out there, I cottoned on. My company just landed a huge account so I've been under less pressure. It's easy to read the signs of an affair."

"Were you angry?" Sara asked from her position opposite him.

"I was furious. At myself more than at her. Work should never be an excuse to let other parts of your life suffer. It was too late when I finally realised that. I'd already lost Mel. But no, before you ask, I didn't hit her. We argued. That's all. I threatened divorce."

"To which she responded?"

"She agreed to break it off with the other guy. She went to Lake Mead this weekend to end it."

"Did she phone you at all – let you know how things went?"

"No."

Sara frowned, "And you weren't worried about her?"

"Look, Mel was an independent girl. She didn't need me breathing down her neck."

"What about the other man? Did you ever find out who he was?"

"No. I want nothing to do with that Romeo."

"How do you explain your neighbours' complaints about domestic abuse – shouting, lots of crashes?" Sara leaned back in her chair, folding her arms.

"Mel and I were a normal married couple. We fought. She was a turbulent personality. When she got angry, she liked to throw things. The neighbours must have heard that," Michael paused, looking annoyed, "Look, I love my wife and I'm here because I want to help you, but I really don't see how these questions are aiding finding who killed Melanie. Can I go?"

"Yeah," Brass stepped forward, "You're free to go."

Once he'd left, Sara turned to Nick, "What do you think?"

"Call me crazy, but I don't think he killed her." Nick sighed.

She nodded in agreement, "Complaints or no, even _I_ feel like we should believe him."

"Then where does that leave us?"

Sara thought for a moment, and then smiled, "_O Romeo, Romeo. Where for art thou Romeo?_"

A/N Well, i hope you enjoyed it. Do let me know what you thought!


	3. C: 3

**A/N Hi! Thanks for the reviews. I'm feeling a little doubtful about putting this chapter up - it's quite a drastic turn of events. Actually, I'm terrified of what some of you might think. But, I'm doing this anyway. Please don't freak out - I'm totally open to re-working.**

**C: 3**

When Nick and Sara arrived back at the scene, they agreed to spread out and search the surrounding areas properly while Brass drove to the nearby house to find its inhabitant. Greg was still in the water, calling orders and suggestions to the divers retrieving the shards of jetty. He waved to Nick and Sara but ignored their jokes, clearly in no mood for laughing.

"Hey Nicky," Sara called, after a few minutes of searching. "There are boot prints here. They lead away into the trees."

"That's a pretty deep tread. Ballpark size, er, 11?"

"Hiking boots, maybe?"

I'll get the mikrosil so we can make an impression," Nick said, heading towards the Tahoe.

Turning her attention back to the prints, Sara snapped a few photos and decided to follow them. The boot prints lead away, into the darkness of the trees and Sara had to squint to see ahead of her, despite her flashlight. Soon, she could no longer hear the splashing of the divers and Greg's annoyed comments to them. It was silent in the trees around her, save the sound of crickets and an owl in the branches above. The wind whistled through the trees, blowing Sara's hair into her eyes. Suddenly, a cough rose in her throat. She doubled over, her voice echoing in the trees. When she straightened up, she shivered. It was creepy and she suddenly longed for Nick's company. She was about to turn and go back when she spotted a dilapidated wooden shed just ahead. It was small, only about 12ft. both ways. The door was open a crack and creaking in the wind.

Intrigued, Sara put down her kit and stepped up to the door. With a quick glance behind her, she nudged it open with her foot and shone her torch inside. The shed was empty except for a high shelf above a glassless window on the opposite wall, and a rickety-looking chair. Carefully, Sara stepped into the shed and scanned the floor for evidence, allowing the door to creak closed behind her. A small red stain on the wooden floor caught her eye and she bent down to take a closer look. A quick swab and a drop of phenolphthalein from her utility jacket told her what she already knew: blood.

Sara capped the swab and put it into her pocket. She moved the chair over to the shelf then carefully climbed onto it to have a look at what was on the shelf. Sara clicked on her torch and inspected its inhabitants: a rusty fishing tackle box, a balled-up old sleeping bag, a baseball bat and a coil of coarse rope. She reached out for the bat but stopped when she felt a light tickling sensation on her stomach.

"Nick," she said seriously, "I'm not ticklish."

"Oh yeah?" a rough, throaty voice growled. Sara froze, her skin prickling. That was definitely not Nick. The light sensation on her skin became harder, cold. 'Oh God,' Sara thought, ' a knife.'

Gulping, Sara slowly looked down. The man had long red hair, tied back into a ponytail and malevolent black eyes, red around the irises. His clothes were sensible: a white shirt and khakis, but were covered in sand and blood. Two dark rings circled his eyes. All in all, he looked like something out of a horror movie. He pressed the knife deeper and reached up to grab hold of her wrist. He squeezed hard and Sara grimaced at the pain.

"Slowly now. Get down," he commanded.

Carefully, Sara lowered her feet to the ground.

"That's it," the man said, keeping an iron grip on her.

Once firmly on the ground, Sara tested the waters. "Sir, this is a potential crime scene. You-"

He snorted and shook his head so she threw caution to the wind. Sara spun around and yanked her arm from his, moving her hand back in preparation for a defensive blow. But she'd underestimated his speed. Before Sara could put up an arm, the man swung at her head. The pain shattered her thoughts, disorienting her completely. She stumbled and her assailant seized his chance, pulling her to him and clamping his hand over her mouth. The knife was at her neck in a heartbeat. Sara froze and stopped struggling the second its cold metal touched her skin. The man stank like stale beer, sweat and blood and she felt her body beginning to tremble against him.

"Don't move!" He hissed.

Sara nodded, hoping to placate him. Her head was spinning with fear and pain and her quick breaths were erratic. The hand over her mouth smelt like rotten fish and she tried hard not to gag. Questions raced through her head: who the hell was this guy? What did he want with her? Was the blood on his shirt Melanie Porters? Deep down, Sara prayed that it wasn't – or else she would have to accept that she was at the mercy of a murderer!

"Hey, you're kinda cute," the man said huskily, causing a shiver of dread to run down Sara's spine.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Sara jumped, and the man tightened his grip on her.

"Sara? You in there?" It was Nick.

"Make one sound and I will carve you, you hear me!" the man whispered harshly into her ear.

Sara flinched, tried to pull away from his rotten breath and nodded furiously. But she knew she'd left her kit outside: Nick was sure to come inside looking for her.

To her horror, the door creaked open and Nick put his head inside.

"Sar-?"

"Move one muscle and I'll slice her!" the man shouted.

Nick froze, a look of absolute horror crossing his face as he took in the scene in front of him. He put up his hands. "Whoa man, calm down."

His eyes darted from the man, to the knife, to Sara. His heart ached. Her pale face was completely ashen and she was gasping for breath. Her hands gripped her assailant's arms uselessly and her wet eyes screamed the fear that Nick knew all too well – will I live through this? He hadn't seen Sara as scared and vulnerable as she now looked and it killed him. Silently, he cursed himself for leaving his gun in the Tahoe.

"Back up now," the man said, flexing his fingers on the knife's grip.

Nick stood rooted. "I'm sorry…but I can't do that," he said.

"Back up NOW!" the man shouted, pressing the knife harder against Sara's neck until she gasped and flinched. Nick didn't move. His eyes met the raging ones of Sara's captor instead.

"_Please_. I can't do that. Just let her go," Nick pleaded, desperation evident in his voice.

The man paused. "Any why do you care so much, huh? You wanna be a hero and go back to your Captain for a shiny medal?" he taunted Nick.

Nick sighed and shook his head. He decided to let it all loose.

"No, I'm not a cop. That girl you've got there? I love her. With every fibre of my being. If something were to happen to her, my world would end. Hell, I even want to marry her someday," he said, his eyes going to Sara's. The first emotion he read there was surprise, but behind that was something more, something that he hadn't seen in her eyes in a long time – hope, maybe?

The man snorted. "Sorry kids. Love means nothing to me anymore." He put his cheek up against Sara's, keeping his eyes glued to Nick. "And I'm not about to let a pretty opportunity pass me by again," he smiled malevolently.

Slowly, agonisingly, his hand left Sara's mouth and slowly slipped through her hair and caressed the side of her face. Nick watched in burning anguish as Sara squeezed her eyes closed and squirmed against his grip. His touch was slimy and suggestive, and she hated having him handling her so intimately. Her eyes met Nick's in desperation, begging him to do something, anything.

Fury rose in Nick and he took a step forward.

"Uh, uh, uh. You stay put," the man growled, making a sawing motion across the front of Sara's neck with the knife. Nick froze again, forced to watch in horror as Sara gasped frantically in the tyrant's arms.

Suddenly, there was a click from behind the man. He stopped dead, eyes growing wide as his whole body tensed. Nick frowned at the change and leaned sideways to see where the sound could have come from. His heart leapt happily when he saw Greg, standing at the window, shakily holding his gun through the window, against the man's back.

"Drop the knife," Greg said slowly, nodding to Nick to reassure him.

The man stood frozen, all of the menace and power gone from him. In his arms, Sara's eyes darted around the room, desperate to find out what had caused the change.

"Drop the knife!" Greg repeated more firmly.

With a dull clatter, the knife hit the ground. In the man's arms, Sara breathed a sigh of relief.

"Good. Now let her go and put your hands up," Greg said, gaining more confidence.

Slowly, his fingers uncurled themselves from Sara and she stumbled forward into Nick. Brass burst into the shed from behind them, pointing his gun ahead, and went to handcuff the man who now stood scowling at the two CSIs.

"Mr Phipps, I presume? We missed you at your house," Brass said as he snapped on a pair of handcuffs and shoved him past Nick and Sara. Phipps paused, sticking his tongue out suggestively at Sara and running it along his lips.

"Hey! Move!" Brass shouted, shoving him from the shed.

Nick watched him go, carefully pushing Sara behind him protectively as he scowled at the man. He turned back to the trembling woman behind him.

"Sara," he sighed, embracing her. She remained still, slowly processing all that had just happened. When Nick broke the embrace and stepped back to look at her, she sighed.

"How are you Sar? Okay?"

She swallowed and nodded.

"Good." The same questions burned in their minds but both remained silent until a familiar face entered the shed.

"You okay Sara?" Greg asked.

Finally, to Nick's relief – and jealousy – Sara smiled. "Of course. And look at you – flashing that gun around like a real pro."

Greg shrugged, blushing, "I try."

Sara caught his hand and squeezed, looking him in the eye. "Thank you Greg."

He nodded sincerely, accepting her thanks.

"You're a real hero Greggo," Nick said, stepping up and slapping him on the back. "Nice work newbie."

After a moment's silence, Greg raised his eyes to Sara's. "So… who was that?"

Sara sighed. Nick read her face like an old story: it pained her to recall any of what had happened. He knew from his own near-death experiences that recall of any kind was never easy.

"I…uh… dunno," Sara said, "He just came out of nowhere."

"This is some night you're having, huh?" Greg joked sympathetically.

Sara nodded and smiled wryly. Nick suddenly recognised the set of her jaw, the way she hardened her eyes. In true Sara Sidle fashion, she was deciding to avoid the issue altogether, despite her trembling body and racing heartbeat. Sara pulled the swab from her pocket.

"I found blood on the floor in here. There's also a baseball bat and some rope on the shelf."

"Maybe we've found our murderous Romeo's base of operations?" Nick suggested.

Sara raised a questioning eyebrow and him and he shrugged.

"Secluded, half way between the only house – which must be his – and the dump site…"

"Well, I've wrapped up the jetty," Greg added proudly," Why not head back to the lab? We can process the blood DNA that Sara got in here and compare it to the vic's."

"Sounds good. Let's roll," Nick said, knowing how much Sara probably wanted to get away.

Sara nodded in agreement and took one final look at the shelf before following him out.

Greg stayed behind, crouching to put the forgotten knife into an evidence bag. He also wanted to give Sara and Nick a few moments alone. He'd only caught the tail end of Nick 's speech, but he suspected they'd want some privacy.

Outside, Nick caught Sara's hand.

"Sara?"

"Yeah Nick?"

"You sure you're okay?"

She nodded furiously, "Yeah. I'll be fine. Thanks – for not leaving me."

"You do know how much you mean to me, right Sar?" Nick asked.

Sara frowned doubtfully and he smiled.

"I meant every word of what I said, Sara. The cat's outta the bag now, there's no point trying to hide my feelings for you anymore." He paused, taking her hand in both of his and looking deep into her eyes. "I love you Sara."

Sara stood rooted, completely taken aback by his revelation. Slowly, a single tear slipped down her cheek. She blinked as more filled her eyes.

"Nick, I love you too," she said softly, a smile slowly creeping across her face. A grin erupted on Nick's face and joy sped through his entire body.

"Sara!" he pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. Happy, relieved laughter rose in his throat. "Oh Sara, don't cry. I love you so much, sweetie don't cry."

Sara relaxed happily into his warm embrace, letting go and allowing her tears to flow freely. "I'm sorry," Sara sniffed. Nick pulled back to look at her and smiled.

"What's wrong angel?"

Sara shrugged then laughed. "I can't believe it. I can't believe this is happening."

"Come here," Nick laughed, pulling her back into a tight embrace and laughing happily.

"I love you," Sara repeated in his ear, her joy evident in her voice.

"You're still shaking," Nick said softly, gripping her hand. At that second, a rasping cough claimed Sara's body and she shook violently in his arms."And you're still sick. I'm taking you back to the lab right away."

This time, Sara had no objections.

**A/N (peeping out from behind chair) So, um... what did you think?**


	4. C: 4

A/N Thanks for the encouraging reviews! Wow! Some of you are really reading my mind with your suggestions – hint hint! This chapter is something of an interlude, just to tie up some loose ends etc. before the party. I hope you enjoy it!

**C: 4**

Gil Grissom headed from his office towards the break room. It was turning into a heavy night and he needed coffee. Already, Catherine had returned from a high profile B&E only to report that a reporter had gotten onto the scene and compromised evidence. The man was currently attempting to press charges against her for confiscating his camera. Warrick was meant to be returning from a Forensic Conference in LA but his plane had been delayed indefinitely due to engine trouble. Grissom's own case, one he'd decided to work alone, was at a dead end unless the DNA results – currently pending – went his way. He hadn't seen Nick, Sara and Greg yet but Brass had hauled a suspect in for them earlier, so he assumed they were meeting some success. When he stepped into the break room however, his hypothesis was defeated.

Sara was seated at the table, her head in her hands. Her face was pale, her eyes weary and she was staring blankly at a sheet of paper on the table in front of her. He could see by the droop of her shoulders that something had upset her. He'd come to know Sara over the years and, judging by the way she looked now, something was horribly wrong.

"Rough night?" Grissom asked, going over the coffee pot.

"I've had better," Sara said, keeping her eyes on the page.

"Me too." Grissom said, "You want some coffee?"

Sara finally looked up at him. "Uh… yeah why not. My body clock's so screwed up already, I can't do much more damage."

Grissom smiled in understanding and took another mug from the cupboard. A few moments later, he sat down next to her, putting a steaming mug in front of her.

"Thanks," Sara said softly.

"How's the case going?" Grissom asked, sipping his coffee.

Sara took a deep breath, "Greg collected all the pieces from the jetty after it collapsed. We're going to check them for trace but there probably won't be much that will help us. I also found some boot prints. Nick made a mould of them for comparison to…to our new suspect."

"Sounds good so far. Who's the suspect?"

Sara stopped dead. Flashes of the shed, the knife, the vile smell of his body against hers and his throaty threats filled her head. She took a deep breath and forced them out of her mind. Beside her, Grissom frowned, confused by her pause and sensing that something was amiss.

"I… followed the boot prints and found an old shed – about halfway between the dumpsite and the house of the guy we suspected was having an affair with our vic. We picked up our new suspect there. Howard Phipps. He … was less than cooperative. Brass confirmed he's also the guy who owns the house," Sara finished, happy with the composed front she'd managed to present.

"Sounds good," Grissom nodded with approval. "And... how are you?"

"I'm fine," Sara said dismissively, "Why?"

"You look upset. What's up?"

"I'm fine, Griss," Sara said, trying to look nonchalant.

"I'm your supervisor Sara, you can talk to me, you know," Grissom said.

Sara took a deep breath. The joy of finding out how Nick felt about her had been killed by the constant flashes of the attack that had been rippling through her mind. It didn't help that they couldn't show any affection in the lab. Ecklie had been making things even more difficult for her lately. Relationships in the team were a touchy issue, but, if discovered, theirs could prove fatal to one or both of their jobs. Nick had suggested they keep it a secret and she'd had no objections. But she still wanted to rush to Nick for a hug, some reassurance that she wasn't going crazy. Sara felt like she was cracking up – losing herself. She'd been working non-stop, like a madwoman for over three and a half weeks, she was getting sick, she hadn't eaten or slept properly, she'd been attacked at a crime scene and she felt miserable because the only thing that was bringing her comfort had to be kept hidden.

She looked up at Grissom and sighed. "When I was in the shed-"

"Grissom!" It was Mia. She put her head in the door, waving a page.

"You got my results?" Grissom turned to her.

"It's a match. The blood in Finn's car is a match to the vic's – and to the blood on the gun barrel," she held out the page to him.

Grissom rose from his seat and accepted the page, scanning it keenly. "Oh yes. Thanks Mia." He looked up and smiled happily. "I'll get PD to give him a call with the good news." He turned to Sara. "Can we finish this later?"

Sara nodded, "Sure Griss."

A second later, he was gone from the room. His coffee mug still stood steaming on the table next to her.

Sara sighed and let her head drop onto the desk in front of her. So much for asking for a couple hours off.

"Hey you!" Greg came walking into the room. "Wanna help me build a jetty?"

Sara sat up and put on a smile. "Sure – lets go."

xxx

"Yeah, I know Melanie Porter," Howard Phipps leaned back in his seat. "She'd come out to Mead on the weekends and we'd … enjoy each other's company."

"Did you sleep with her?" Greg asked.

"No woman can resist this," Phipps said arrogantly, gesturing to himself.

Greg raised his eyebrows, "I'll take that as a yes."

"So you admit to having an affair with Melanie Porter?" Brass questioned.

"Hell yeah," Phipps said. "She was married to a work-addicted pansy. He didn't even know she existed and I, well, lets just say _she_ was all that I knew existed."

"So you must have been upset when she decided to end the affair and go back to him, huh?"

Phipps glared at Greg. "Yeah I was angry. She was mine!" he barked, his voice rising, "She had no right to just up and leave me after what we had together."

"So you killed her?"

"She just walked in there and declared that it was over. As if she owned me or something."

"So you raped, stabbed and strangled her then tied her to the jetty poles? Doesn't sound like a loving relationship to me."

Phipps paused, considering the implications. "I loved her. She was my world. I got angry but I didn't kill her," he said, changing tack.

"Mr. Phipps, the shed that you were arrested in – is it yours?" Greg asked.

"Yeah, so?"

"We found Melanie's blood on the floor in the shed."

"And you attacked our CSI!" Brass said incredulously, letting out what he'd been desperately wanting to ask and raising his arms. "What the Hell were you thinking, man?"

"She had no right to be in there. I was defending my property and like most guys, I never pass up an opportunity to get some," Phipps said with a chuckle.

"Most guys wouldn't hold a woman at knifepoint," Brass challenged.

"Plus, you built your shed on state land, so technically it's illegal," Greg said.

"And we had a warrant to search your property," Brass added, "So the shed was gonna be ours anyway. Sara Sidle had every right to be there."

"Oh," Phipps said, "But that still doesn't mean I killed her!"

"Actually, it does," Greg said, "Not only did we find her blood in your shed, but we also found some of your hair caught in the wood of the jetty. There were signs of sexual assault – and your semen was there too. And if that's still not enough for you, the knife you attacked Sara with was a match to the one used to stab Melanie."

"And your boot prints were found at the jetty she was tied to," Brass added, casting a satisfied nod in Greg's direction.

Phipps glared at him, "I want a lawyer."

"You're going to need one," Greg said smugly, getting up and heading for the door.

"Oh," Phipps called after him, "Tell _Sara_ that I'm always available if she wants so have some _fun._ Maybe I'll find her when I'm through with this crap."

Fury rose in Greg but Brass stepped front of him. "Don't worry, Mr Phipps, there are plenty of guys who'd love to have some _fun_ with you where you're going."

In the room on the other side of the glass, Sara shivered. Nick had closed the door and put his arms around her when the interrogation began, keeping her warm and supported, but now her whole body felt cold.

Nick squeezed her tightly. "Don't worry Sara. He won't get anywhere near you."

Sara said nothing, resting her head on his chest and sighing. "Thanks Nick." She glanced up at the clock, "And so ends yet another double shift."

"At least we've got the party to look forward to tonight," Nick said.

"Hmmm," Sara smiled.

"You want me to give you a ride home?" Nick said, noticing Sara's drooping eyes.

"That's sweet, but I'll be fine. My car's here and I need to stop off at the store."

"Okay. You just make sure you get some rest. You've had a long day and I want you better, so get to bed." Nick said.

"Yeah, yeah, I will." Sara said, smiling at him. Another cough rose in her throat and she pulled from his hold.

"And get something for that," Nick added.

"I'll see you tomorrow night. I love you." She went up to him, quickly glanced at the door to check for witnesses, then leaned up on her toes and put her lips to his. The kiss was warm and tender – full of trust and adoration. Nick responded instantly, relishing the feel of her soft lips against his own. Suddenly, Sara jerked away, breaking the contact.

"Stop! Nick, I don't want to make you sick as well!"

Nick sighed. "I'll take a little cough if it comes with a kiss like that," he said, his voice low and suggestive.

Sara smiled and shook her head knowingly.

"I'll see you later," Sara quickly pecked him on the cheek. "And I'll see about taking you up on that." She winked and turned to the door.

"I love you," Nick called.

"Me too!"

xxx

"Whew, what a night," Greg sighed as he sat down on the bench in the locker room.

"Tell me about it," Catherine said, closing her locker. "The press are one giant pain in my ass."

"Is that reporter still pressing charges?" Greg asked, leaning over to pull on his sneakers.

"No. We managed to convince him that it would only make him look like the ass he is," Catherine said. "Hey Greg, I hear you're quite the hero. Saved independent Sara, huh?"

"Who's saving Sara?" Grissom asked, entering the room.

"Greg here is our new department hero of the week," Catherine explained. "He and Nicky saved Sara from a murderer today. Guy had a knife at her throat, hands all over her. Apparently it was nail-biting stuff."

"Yeah," Greg agreed, shaking his head sadly "We really thought he was going to kill her. Nick especially, he took major strain. He was the one that found them in the first place."

Horror covered Grissom's face, "Why didn't I hear about this?"

"You were busy," Greg said. "When I saw you talking to Sara earlier I assumed she'd told you."

"Oh no." Grissom said, scrunching his face and slapping his forehead, as realisation finally hit. He'd let himself get carried away with his case – and run out on Sara.

"What?" Catherine asked.

"Is Sara still here?" he asked, ignoring her question.

"Sorry boss," Greg said. "She left ten minutes ago."

"Damn," Grissom stalked out of the room, headed for his office.

Catherine raised her eyebrows and shrugged. "So you got something to wear for the party?"

"But of course," Greg said with a mischievous grin.

Down the corridor in his office, Grissom furiously tapped his pen on his desk. "Come on Sara, answer your phone." The familiar ring echoed in his ear over and over, almost mocking him. Eventually, he gave up.

Grissom slammed the phone down and sat back in his chair, mentally cursing himself. How could he have been so dismissive? He'd known something was wrong. Anger flowed through his veins – anger at whoever had hurt her, anger at the others for not telling him, but mostly anger at himself for running out on her. Anger fast turned to overwhelming guilt. As her supervisor, it was his job to be on top of what happened to her in the lab and the field. He was supposed to support and protect his team. Plus, he _knew_ Sara. Their relationship was more than just a professional one. Despite their failed 'romance', their relationship was one of deep trust and respect. Grissom had seen other sides of Sara – and knew how fragile she was underneath her tough, independent demeanour. He felt as though he'd failed, as her supervisor _and_ as her friend. She'd always trusted him unwaveringly, even enough to disclose her sensitive family history to him but he'd been too busy to even talk to her when she'd needed him. Sighing, Grissom dialled Sara's home number.

"Hey! It's Sara. I'm not in – you know the drill," the familiar voice of her answering machine came.

Grissom took a deep breath and hung up.

A/N Well, so ends my interlude. Now I've gotta work on the beeeg one. It might take a few days since I have to start studying for finals but fear not – it will be up ASAP.

BUT…

I need some advice from you guys, since season six hasn't aired in SA yet.

What happened with Warrick and Tina?


	5. C: 5

A/N So here it is: the BEEEG one. I actually wanted to wait a while before putting this up so I could see what you guys are thinking but I'm feeling reckless so here it is. I really hope you enjoy. Again, it's a drastic turn for Sara but one that I have enjoyed writing. Now, I'm going to hide from possible projectiles– ENJOY!

**C: 5**

Nick sat waiting in his Denali outside Sara's apartment building. They'd figured that it wouldn't be too suspicious if they arrived together and so, had agreed that he would pick her up. An electricity company van was parked in front of Nick and two men in overalls stood arguing heatedly beside it. Obviously the repairs were not going as planned. Nick only hoped that they had not gotten in the way of Sara's rest. One of the problems of working graveyard was having to sleep during the day when the rest of the world was bustling. If something noisy was happening, it sometimes took ages to get to sleep. Nick leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, yawning widely.

"Whoa Nicky. You nearly swallowed me whole!"

Nick jumped, taken by surprise and found Sara standing outside the car. It was forecast to be a cold night and Sara had a long black coat and a red scarf wrapped tightly around her. Her hair was ironed straight and a wreath of silver tinsel rested on her head. Nick quickly got out and she opened the coat to reveal a black cocktail dress that ended just above her knees and showed off her calves. A belt of silver tinsel rested low on her hips with a long end hanging down.

"Hey you," he said, taking hold of the tinsel belt and pulling her forward into a hug. "God, you don't know how sexy you look in that dress."

"Right back at you, babe," Sara smiled and her eyes scanned up and down his body.

"You get some rest?"

Sara sighed, "They were breaking down walls upstairs to get to the cables. All day."

"Aaw, sweetie. You haven't really gotten proper rest, have you?" Nick frowned.

Sara shook her head, tears appearing in her eyes. "No. Nick, I can't keep this up. I'm exhausted. It's really frustrating too. Every time I think I'm gonna get a chance to relax something comes up. I feel like Hell."

"Wow. Sara Sidle admits mortality." He joked, trying to cheer her up.

"Listen Sar, why don't we stay in? I'll see to it that you get rest. We don't have to be at the party," Nick suggested.

Sara shook her head, forcing her tears back. "Nonsense. This is the one night that we can be totally – and openly - relaxed at the lab. This only happens once a year and we're not going to miss it. Let's go." She turned to get in the car but Nick grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to him.

"Are you sure? I don't want you to do this for my sake."

"I'm sure. I also _want_ to go, you know," Sara said firmly. "I'm just going to massacre these workers if they're not gone by the time I get home." Sara grinned at him.

Nick chuckled, returning the smile. If there was one person who he knew would do that, it was Sara. "Okay then, let's go!"

xxx

Grissom entered the lab feeling mellow and happy. The department Christmas party was always good: it meant a good time with his team and that they'd made it through yet another year. It was one of those times in life when everything just seems alright – those summative times when anything seems possible because you realise what you've accomplished. Grissom automatically turned towards his office, where he planned to drop off his coat. He frowned at the people around him – what was with all the hats and tree decorations pinned to the guys' jacket pockets?

"Hey!" Catherine put her head in his door. She was wearing a red cocktail dress and black knee-high boots. A wreath of gold tinsel was resting on her strawberry blonde hair.

"Hey Cath. You look nice," Grissom observed.

"Thanks," Catherine replied.

"So what's with the tinsel – and all the elf hats floating around out there?" Grissom asked, raising a curious eyebrow.

"Here," Catherine said, handing him a red Santa hat.

"Er…thanks?" Grissom accepted the hat.

Catherine sighed. "The dress code for the party this year was to wear something related to Christmas. You've been really distracted lately so I figured you might forget."

"Thanks Cath," Grissom said sincerely, pulling the hat on and letting the bobble at the end fall to the side. "So where are the others?"

"Santa's little helpers? They're around here somewhere. You manage to get hold of Sara yesterday?"

"No. She wasn't answering her phone. Where's Lindsay? I thought she as coming with you tonight. I was looking forward to seeing her."

"One of her friends organised a last minute party – she's spending the night," Catherine shrugged. "I'm just not cool anymore."

"She's a teenager," Grissom reasoned, "She'll come 'round."

"Hey Grissom, I mean.. Santa!" Warrick said with a grin as he entered the room. "Nice hat."

"You don't look too bad yourself, little helper," Grissom replied. Warrick wore a huge bowtie made out of the red ribbon used to wrap gifts. Grissom's eyes went to Catherine, like a whining child looking to his mother for an explanation, "Why couldn't I dress like that?"

"Because you're in charge and you have a beard. And I wanted to see you in a Santa hat," Catherine smiled.

"And I can't exactly wear cute little hats like that," Warrick said, pointing to his hair.

His eyes went to Catherine and her outfit. "Wow! Cath… looking good," he said smoothly.

"Thanks Rick," Catherine said a little too coyly for Grissom to miss. She blushed.

"So… you used tinsel to dress as an angel?" Grissom said, raising a curious eyebrow.

Catherine scowled. "Yes – an angel. Don't look so shocked. Sara's doing it too."

Grissom's eyebrow shot higher. "_Sara_ agreed to dress as an angel?"

Catherine shrugged. "She also forgot and I had extra tinsel."

"Does she look any better tonight?" Grissom asked seriously.

"The girl's tired and she looks it," Warrick said.

Catherine nodded. "Nick said she's not feeling too good. Something about her apartment building. I don't think she got much sleep."

"Not a good thing considering what happened yesterday," Warrick added.

"Hmmm," Grissom said. "Where are they?"

"They were in the break room waiting for Greg to arrive when I saw them," Warrick said.

"Thanks," Grissom took off down the corridor.

Catherine turned her attention to Warrick.

"So you're here as a gift. God's gift to women, maybe? Or just to one woman in particular…?" she suggested, her eyes betraying her attraction to him.

"Whichever you prefer, my angel," Warrick said, his eyes meeting hers. For a moment, their eyes stayed fixed upon each other. When Warrick realised they were still standing in Grissom's office, he looked away. "So… you wanna grab a drink?" he asked shyly.

"Sure," Catherine smiled. Warrick held out his arm like a gentleman and she accepted with a grateful smile. To anyone else, they looked like two friends joking around at a party together, but to them, the contact meant more.

xxx

True to Warrick's word, Grissom found Nick and Sara in the break room. The main party was being held there and so, the room was full of CSIs and techs from all the shifts. His two CSIs were in a corner. Sara stood with her back against the wall and Nick was leaning against the one perpendicular to hers. The two appeared totally engrossed in each other, eyes shining and lips smiling. With a stab, Grissom remembered when he had been able to make Sara smile like that. As Catherine had said, a silver tinsel wreath adorned her head and a silver tinsel belt rested low on her hips. Nick was dressed with a similar bowtie to Warrick, only his was gold.

As he drew closer, Grissom noticed that Nick and Sara's fingers were entwined discreetly in the corner between them. He also noticed Sara's tired eyes and they way they would slide closed until a comment from Nick prompted them to open again. Every now and then, she'd keel over as hoarse coughs gripped her body. Concern would cover Nick's face until the coughs abated and his attention returned to their conversation.

"Grissom! Over here!" Nick spotted him and waved. As Grissom headed in their direction, he noticed their carefully hidden hands leave one another.

"Hey Griss. Nice hat!" Nick said when he got closer. "Rick owes me ten bucks."

Grissom rolled his eyes.

"I was just about to get Sara and myself something to drink, can I get you something?" Nick asked.

"Yeah, thanks Nick," Grissom nodded.

"Okay, back in a few," Nick said, briefly casting his eyes in Sara's direction. She smiled at him before turning her attention to Grissom.

"You look pretty good, Santa," she said before he could open his mouth.

"Aah, and I hear you've been a very good girl in CSI this year," Grissom joked.

"I try," Sara said with a shrug.

"You succeed too," Grissom said, catching her hand in his own and holding her gaze. "Don't forget that, Sara."

"Thanks." Sara smiled in response but it soon turned into a wide yawn. Grissom noted that her hand was trembling in his own and guessed in was because she had obviously missed out on some sleep. When her hand left his, he heard the crinkle of a wrapper and looked up to see

Sara pull a cough drop out of her bag and pop it into her mouth.

"Cough drops?" Grissom raised an eyebrow.

Sara rolled her eyes. "Don't worry. I haven't had a drink in ages."

Grissom frowned. "I'm sorry about yesterday, I shouldn't have run out on you."

Nightmarish flashes of Phipps' eyes; his knife on her skin; his sour breath and his guttural whispers in her ear screamed in Sara's mind at the mention of the previous shift. She forced them down and managed to shrug casually, "You were busy and I'm fine. At least we caught him. It was a slam dunk too. Greg's going to bury him under evidence in court."

Grissom looked her in the eye. "Are you sure you're okay?"

She quickly put her hands up as another cough gripped her body. When it subsided, she cleared her throat and brushed her hair back from her face. "Honestly, no, I'm not. Grissom, I need time off. I can't keep working like this."

"But you've had days off, haven't you?" Grissom asked.

Sara shook her head, "You called me in on them."

Grissom frowned, "How long has it been since you've been off?"

Sara sighed. "Almost four weeks now."

"God Sara! Why didn't you say something sooner?" Grissom cried incredulously, scanning her face for an explanation.

She shrugged and brought up a hand to fan her face, "There were a lot of cases coming in – you needed a full team. God, it's hot in here, don't you think?"

Grissom's frown deepened, "No… I don't." He put a hand on her forehead. Her head was unmistakably hot and her cheeks were flushed. "Sara, are you getting sick?"

Sara shook her head and carried on fanning her face, "No. I've just got a bit of a cough – winter air's a bit thick with the fog. Whew! I think I need some air; this room is really getting stuffy. I'll be back now."

"Okay, but when you get back we're going to talk about some time off for you," Grissom said, but she was already half way to the door.

By the time Sara reached the locker room, her head was spinning. Her whole body was on fire and her vision was blurry and jumpy, like a badly tuned TV. She fought to keep herself upright as she moved over to the drinking fountain between the lockers for water- anything to cool her down. But she couldn't find the fountain. She knew it was in front of her, but she couldn't see it. She began teetering dangerously and the world in front of her spun. Around and around and around and around. Her mind was sent reeling into confusion. The floor was on the ceiling. The lockers were all moving up and down the walls. Tiny white lights began to flash in her eyes, blocking out the world. Sara tried desperately to hang on to her thoughts. She was going to.. going to…going… Coherent thought eluded her and stifling darkness descended on her mind. Sara was unconscious before her body hit the cool floor of the locker room with a dull thud.

Nick returned carrying three glasses but found only Grissom.

"Here you go," he handed Grissom's glass to him. "Where's Sara?"

"She said she needed some air. I think she may have gone to the ladies'," Grissom said, accepting the glass. "Thanks."

Suddenly, laughter was heard at the door. The crowd parted to reveal Greg, grinning and headed in their direction. "Hey guys," he said, stopping in front of them.

A loud snort escaped Nick, "Hey… Rudolph, is it?"

Greg smiled, "But of course." He was wearing a pair of fleece reindeer horns in his spiked hair and a red clown's nose was clinging to his own.

"Original Greg," Grissom said, nodding with a smile. "Does this mean I can rely on you to pull my sleigh tonight?"

"That depends on what you sleigh is," Greg said. "If it happens, by some freak coincidence, highly unlikely, to be a Bentley, or any high power automobile for that matter, I'd be more than happy to. Operate it, that is."

"You know, there are faster things in this world than cars, Greg. The king cheetah in Southern Africa can reach speeds of up to 63 miles per hour in a few seconds," Nick commented.

"Aah, but does it come with leather seats and airbags?" Greg replied smartly.

"Animal Planet again, Nicky?" Grissom said, a hint of mockery in his voice.

"Hey!" Nick scowled. "You're just jealous because my cheetah comment got in before your bug one."

Taken aback by Nick's insight, Grissom frowned but said nothing: he couldn't argue against something he knew was true.

"So where's Sara tonight?" Greg asked, scanning the room for the brunette.

"At the moment, in the bathroom," Nick explained.

xxx

"I just wonder if I'm doing something wrong, you know? She's pulling away from me," Catherine said sadly.

"They all grow up sometime, you know," Warrick said, leaning against the wall beside her. The two had gotten drinks and had soon found themselves wondering the emptier corridors of the lab. "Besides, you're a great mother. If she's anything like you she's bound to be independent. That's a good thing nowadays."

"I don't know. I don't want Lindsay to be like me. Working all the time, never having time to be normal and just relax," Catherine said. "I feel like she's grown up without me."

"Hey," Warrick grabbed her shoulders and looked into her eyes. "You've been there – all the way. You've been a super mother to her and really, if she turns out like you, it will be a _good_ thing."

"You really think so?" Catherine asked, raising her eyes hopefully.

"Honey, I know so." Warrick said, giving her a reassuring smile. He pulled her into a hug, offering comfort and assurance. When he released her, she sighed and returned his smile. Suddenly her eyes lit up.

"You know she was in the school play last week? I picked up the photos yesterday. God, she was so good on that stage," Catherine said. "You wanna see the photos?"

"Do you even need to ask?" Warrick smiled.

"They're in my locker," Catherine explained, turning towards the locker room.

"Lead the way." Warrick smiled and put an arm around her shoulders as they walked.

"You know she thinks you walk on water, right?" Catherine looked up at him with a smile.

Warrick paused, then decided to go for it. "Did she inherit that from her mother too?"

A suggestive smile spread across Catherine's lips and her eyes met his, speaking volumes. "That, I can-" She stopped suddenly as they reached the locker room only to find a familiar form on the ground. Warrick's arm left her shoulders and he frowned.

"Sara?!" Catherine cried in shock, her smile dissolving into horror.

"Oh God." Warrick cried. "Get help – quick!"

Catherine dashed from the room and he hurried to crouch at the fallen brunette's side. Quickly, Warrick checked for a pulse and sighed with relief when he found one. His hand went to Sara's forehead. It was boiling hot.

"Sara! Girl, wake up!" Warrick cried, gently shaking her. "Sara, come on!"

But the woman in front of him lay prone. Her eyes remained shut and her face was flushed. Warrick grasped her hand and found it trembling in his own. Her lips were parted slightly and her breathing was slow and shallow. Warrick put his hand on her scalding cheek "Sara! Come on! Sara!"

xxx

Catherine raced down the corridor, going as fast as she could in her boots, and burst into the break room, calling the first person she could think of.

"Grissom! Grissom!" The others in the room turned to her, some curious and others frowning with disapproval at her shouting.

"Cath? What's wrong?" Grissom emerged from behind a large reindeer that turned out to be Greg.

"You guys have to come quick!" Catherine gasped, trying to catch her breath. "It's Sara. Something's wrong."

"Sara?" Nick cried, his eyes flashing with worry, "Oh no." He immediately pushed past them and took off down the corridor. With a quick glance at Catherine, Grissom and Greg quickly followed him. With a deep breath Catherine turned to follow. From his position nearby, Ecklie turned and frowned, sensing something was up.

xxx

"Sara!" Nick barrelled down the corridor and into the locker room. He found Sara lying on her back, unconscious and limp. Beside her, Warrick was clutching her hand.

"Nicky!" he yelped, "She's out cold!"

"What the Hell happened?" Nick demanded, falling to his knees at Sara's side.

"I don't know. Cath and I found her like this," Warrick replied.

Footsteps echoed down the corridor and soon, Grissom and Greg entered the room. They stopped dead inside the doorway as their eyes scanned the woman on the floor in front of them.

"Oh God," Greg said softly.

Forcing himself to think logically, Grissom took command. "What happened?"

He went to Sara's side and took her arm from Warrick.

"Pulse is weak, but it's there." His hand moved to her forehead. "Fever." Grissom said grimly. He turned to Greg, "Find Doc. Robbins!"

"No need! I'm here," a voice announced and Robbins hobbled into the room. Behind him, Catherine leaned against the doorframe to gather her breath. Warrick moved back from Sara and went over to her.

"Uh, guys?" Robbins said, "You mind putting her on the bench? The ole leg makes it hard to get down."

Wordlessly, Nick took hold of Sara's shoulders while Greg gripped her feet. Carefully, they lifted her from the floor and laid her on the narrow bench between the rows of lockers. He arms hung limply at her side, flopping to the floor and, as soon as he was sure she was okay, Nick took hold of her right hand. He waited, unconsciously holding his breath as the doctor went about examining Sara. A grim, oppressive silence descended on the room and the CSIs inside waited tensely for a diagnosis – any explanation as to what was wrong with one of their own. Unconsciously, Warrick's arm found it's way around Catherine's shoulders.

Eventually, his heart in his throat with worry, Nick broke the silence. "Doc?"

Robbins sighed. "She's definitely got a fever of some kind and her pulse is much lower than it should be. She doesn't normally have low blood pressure, does she?"

"No," Grissom answered quickly. "She's healthy."

"Then I'll need to do more tests, a proper examination to find out what caused this," Robbins admitted.

"What about fatigue?" Nick asked, "She's been really burning both ends lately."

"Well, in very rare cases, extreme fatigue can lead to the body being forced to shut down and rest," Robbins explained, "But that only happens when the person has really been pushing it: severe physical and emotional stress; inadequate diet; weakened immune system."

"Well she hasn't been sleeping," Nick said.

"Or eating properly," Greg added.

"She got attacked by that guy yesterday," Catherine said.

"And she's getting sick," Grissom finished.

"Damn," Warrick said, summing up what they were all thinking. "The girl's been on a suicide mission."

Bitter guilt rose in both Grissom and Nick. They both considered themselves to be close to Sara – and both hated themselves for not stopping her when they first noticed that something was wrong.

"What can we do?" Nick turned his eyes to Robbins, "If it is that?"

"Good old fashioned TLC. She should wake up eventually. Take her home and make sure she rests, eats and relaxes," Robbins explained. "It'd be a good idea to get her blood sugar and electrolyte levels checked out too. Get some blood tests just in case it's something serious."

"Should I call an ambulance?" Catherine asked from behind him.

"It'll be quicker if we take her," Nick interrupted. He turned to Greg and tossed his car keys to him.

"Gotcha," the young CSI nodded and ran from the room.

The others stood, watching his back, each silently wondering what was going to happen.

A low groan from below them brought their attention back. They looked down to see Sara's hand go to her forehead.

"Sara?"

Slowly, her eyes opened halfway and she squinted up at them.

"Sara? You with us?" Warrick asked, concern filling his voice.

Sara shook her head and winced. "Ow… my head. Nick?"

"I'm here Sar!" Nick said, kneeling down beside her.

She paused and looked up at the group, slowly becoming aware of where she was. She frowned, "What happened?"

"You burnt yourself out and collapsed," Nick explained, his hand gently rubbing her shoulder.

"How are you feeling?" Grissom asked, putting a hand on her forehead.

"Tired," Sara mumbled, closing her eyes again. "And sore." She sighed and slowly put her hand on the bench then pushed herself up into a sitting position.

"We're gonna take you to the hospital," Catherine asked.

Sara frowned, "Uh uh. I… hate hospitals."

"Home then." Catherine sighed, "Can you stand?"

Nick offered an arm and Sara gratefully took it, slowly, shakily, rising to her feet. She moved to take a step and her knees gave in. Nick caught her under her arms, stopping her from hitting the floor.

"You're too weak," he said. "Here." He put an arm under her knees and lifted her.

"Nick," Sara complained weakly. "I'm …fine."

"No, you're not," He shot back. She sighed restlessly but offered no further protest to his heroism. Nick looked down and found her resting her head against his chest, eyes already closing. "You're not even completely awake."

"Car's waiting!" Greg shouted, running into the room. He stopped and looked at Sara. "No change?"

"Hey… Greggo," A small smile crossed Sara's face but she kept her eyes closed.

"She's awake?" Greg asked hopefully.

"And listening so… stop talking about me… like… I'm not here," Sara said lowly. Nick shook his head. Sara was half-dead but she still managed to be sassy.

"C'mon," he said, "Let's get her outta here." Taking the lead, Nick stepped from the room and started making his way to the car.

Grissom followed behind Nick and the rest of the team as they made their way through the lab. His mind was reeling with questions, with guilt, with concern. A huge chunk of Sara's condition was his fault: he'd kept her working without realising just how much she needed rest. His thoughts were interrupted, however, when Ecklie stepped into his path. The group stopped but he waved them on. "Go on! I'll meet you at the car," He called.

"Grissom! What the Hell is going on?" Ecklie demanded. "What's wrong with Sidle?"

Grissom sighed. This was just what Ecklie had been looking for to make life harder for his team.

"Sara collapsed," He said honestly, hoping Ecklie wouldn't probe further, but knowing, with a sense of dread that he would.

"Why?"

"She's not well and… dealing with some personal problems at the moment," Grissom tried to be vague.

"Not attacking witnesses again, is she?" Ecklie asked, raising an eyebrow judgmentally and crossing his arms.

Grissom glared at him and shook his head angrily. "That guy was no witness. And _he_ attacked _her_."

Ecklie snorted. "I hope you're not referring to yesterday. Sidle should have known better than to go wondering without a uniform to watch her."

"She's a grown woman and she was following the evidence," Grissom defended. "She couldn't have known that was going to happen." He paused then matched Ecklie's growing scowl. "She probably wouldn't have even been out there if it wasn't for your constant criticism of my team. Hell, the girl is sick and exhausted and still she's out there working to keep this lab's reputation up."

"Then, I can only question whether this little collapse of hers is not due to bad supervision on your part. I told you she was a loose cannon."

"Sara is an incisive, dedicated criminalist who has been working her ass off for your lab. You should thank her," Grissom matched him.

"Yeah, thanks to her, the graveyard shift is going to be short staffed. She never did know when enough was enough." Ecklie said disdainfully.

"Oh don't worry, Conrad, the lab won't be compromised while she's recovering." Grissom said scornfully. That verbalized, he turned and stormed down the corridor behind his team.

**A/N** Whew. I think I'd better stop there. Yet again, a drastic chapter – think I'd better station myself behind the chair once more! PLEASE, I'd love to know what you think!


	6. C: 6

**A/N I do apologise for the time it took to get this update up. Final exams are killer. Physics yesterday was a total disaster. Plus I'm having to write on the sly. My parents are hassling me about writing instead of studying. Luckily, it's English Lit tomorrow so I've got a teensy reason to be writing – I'm expanding my English! Lame, I know.**

**Anyway, that's enough witter. Here's the next chapter. I really do hope you enjoy it. (I was eating a Snickers bar while I wrote it so I certainly enjoyed producing it for you!)**

**C: 6**

"If there's any news-"

"I'll phone. Don't worry Warrick," Grissom said to him. He waved his phone at Catherine and raised his eyebrows, wordlessly reminding her to keep her phone with her. She nodded and waved.

Grissom pulled the car door closed and turned to Greg, who was in the driver's seat beside him. "Let's go."

"I don't know where to go," Greg said, "Hospital or home?"

"Home," Grissom and Nick said simultaneously. Grissom expanded, "Sara really does hate hospitals and if what the doc said is right, she just needs lots of rest. I doubt she'll appreciate it if she wakes up in a hospital when she already refused to go near one."

"O-kay. Where does Sara live anyway?" Greg started the car and frowned.

"On Greys Avenue. It's not far from here. Turn right out of the lot," Grissom said, leaving Greg and Nick, who was in the backseat with an unconscious Sara, to wonder just how many times he'd been to her apartment. Nick hastily pushed the thought of Grissom and Sara being together out of his head. Grissom was their supervisor: it was his job to know where they lived.

On the sidewalk outside the lab, Catherine grasped Warrick's hand as they watched Nick's Denali leave the parking lot. For a few seconds, neither said anything although both were worrying about the same thing.

Catherine let out a long sigh, "Another person I've failed with." She said, a hint of regret in her voice.

Warrick frowned, "What? Who?"

"Sara. The two of us should be close." She shrugged at Warrick's raised eyebrow, "Girls gotta stick together around all the testosterone on the team."

Warrick chuckled in understanding.

"You know, I never wanted to deliberately keep things so cool between us, but somehow I have. We're both so stubborn and every time things improve we seem to have some sort of disagreement. I've never taken much time to consider that there may be another side to her than the hardy Sara we see here. And now this."

Sensing that Catherine was feeling more than a little guilt, Warrick put a hand on her shoulder. "Cath, don't feel guilty. So you two haven't connected. That doesn't mean you never will."

Catherine snorted. "Sad how it takes something like this to make me see that."

"Hmmm," Warrick agreed. "But you haven't failed with anyone Cath. Don't think that." He paused for a second then asked, "You think she'll be okay."

"With friends like you guys? Of course!"

"Hey, you're her friend too, you know," Warrick corrected her.

Catherine shook her head, "No. I'm not. But I'm going to change that." When she turned to face Warrick, some of the worry of the past few minutes had passed. "Grissom didn't look too happy when he came out. Maybe his chat with Ecklie didn't go well."

"Damage control?" Warrick asked, certain that Catherine would be able to lessen whatever damage Grissom had caused with the assistant director.

"Guess so," Catherine shrugged. "I hope he didn't say something stupid. You know Grissom usually crosses the line when one of us in involved."

"What did Ecklie wear tonight?" Warrick asked.

"A star. Like off the top of the Christmas tree," Catherine answered.

"I'm surprised he didn't come as the nativity donkey," Warrick mumbled.

Catherine frowned at him curiously, "Why?"

"He's such an ass."

xxx

"Apartment 9," Grissom said, leading the way up the stairs to Sara's apartment. Nick and Greg followed, carrying Sara and her purse respectively. When they stopped outside her door, Grissom turned to Greg.

"Key?"

"Huh?" Greg asked, shaking his head as if he hadn't heard correctly.

"Sara's keys," Grissom clarified.

"I dunno where they are," Greg shrugged.

Grissom sighed and looked down at the purse over his shoulder. Greg followed his eyes and shook his head when realisation hit. "You're kidding, right? Girls hate it when you dig in their purses – and this is Sara. She might just take off my-"

"Greg!" Grissom interrupted, "It's clipped on the strap!"

"Oh…uh sorry. Here you go," Embarrassment clouded Greg's face as he handed the key to Grissom.

"You sure you passed the Observational Proficiencies Greggo?" Nick joked with him.

Greg only cocked his head to the side and gave Nick 'the look' in response.

Grissom pushed the door open and held it there for the two men. Greg entered first, sliding his hand down the wall in search of a light switch. His fingers soon found it and he flipped the lights on.

"Wow. Nice place," he commented, stepping aside to allow Grissom and Nick to enter. He cast a brief glance at Sara but she was still out for the count in the Texan's arms.

"Nick, take her through there," Grissom directed, pointing to a white door.

"I got it," Greg said, slipping past Nick to open the door for him and flip on the light in the bedroom.

Sara's bedroom was as unique as her living room. The whole room was decorated in lilac and deep navy blue. With a rich mahogany queen size bed, a dark wood armoire, and dark blue curtains, the room had the feel of classy simplicity with a subtle wealth. The lilac and navy of the duvet, blinds and walls, however, added a characteristic pertness to an otherwise elegant room. Classic Sara.

"Is that oak?" Greg asked, stepping towards the foot of the bed to rub his hand along its end. "Pricey. How come she can afford this on a state salary?"

Nick ignored him and gently laid Sara down on her bed. Her head rolled to the side and she frowned, moaning softly in her sleep. Nick casts a glance over her body and realised that she was still dressed in the slim black dress she'd worn to the party. It was getting late and the temperature was dropping further so, on the way home, he'd wrapped her up in his jacket. He had no idea what had happened to her tinsel accessories, but he didn't much care. Grissom entered the room and came to a stop beside him, his eyes also on the sleeping woman before them.

"I put the kettle on for some tea," Grissom said.

"Do you, uh, think we should change her?" Nick raised a questioning eyebrow at the man beside him.

"Uh…" Grissom froze. His discomfort at the question was clear in his voice when he answered, "I guess we can't put her to bed dressed like that." His eyes went to Nick, seeking some sort of assurance in the young man's eyes. He found only to confusion and unease that he, himself was feeling. Another glance at Sara quelled his doubts. The dress was not exactly the most comfortable looking attire, though she looked gorgeous in it, and she could certainly not sleep in Nick's jacket. For herself, Sara looked washed-out, weak and restless. Grissom noticed goosebumps on her legs and made his decision. He didn't want to violate Sara's privacy but his concern was growing and pyjamas would really be better for her.

"Greg, her pyjama's should be in the top drawer," he turned and pointed to the armoire. Greg nodded and pulled open the drawer, picking up a small pale yellow pile of clothes.

"Maybe we could wake her up?" Greg asked as he came to stand beside them. Both turned to him looking reluctant. "Or I could just do it?" His voice took on a lusty tone. "After all, Sara and I have been … _decontaminated_ together. That involved no clothes at all."

Nick felt a pang of jealousy run through him- at Grissom for his increasingly apparent intimate knowledge of Sara's apartment and at Greg, for his having been anywhere near a naked Sara. He pushed the feelings down and sat down on the bed next to Sara and pulled her feet onto his lap. Carefully, Nick undid the straps on her heels and gently slid them off her feet.

Sara gave a plaintive moan and rolled over, pulling her feet from his grip. "That tickles."

"Sara?" Nick asked, "You awake?"

Sara rolled over to face them and slowly opened her eyes. She shook her head. "Uh uh."

"How are you feeling?" Nick asked, gently grasping her hand in his own.

In response, a rough cough rose in her throat and Sara curled into a ball as the force of it jolted her body. When it subsided, she rolled over and looked at Nick pathetically.

"Not great," Nick answered his own question. His hand went to her forehead. "Fever seems a bit better, though."

"What's wrong with me?"

"Doc Robbins guessed it's severe fatigue. Your body couldn't cope anymore so you collapsed," Greg explained.

"How did I get here?" Sara frowned and her eyes scanned her bedroom.

"We drove you back from the lab," Grissom explained. "Are you okay to change into your pyjamas by yourself?"

Sara ignored his question and covered her face with her hands, rolling over and pulling her legs up to her chest. It was embarrassing enough that she'd collapsed at the lab, but now she'd been rushed home and Grissom was asking if she was _capable_ of changing her clothes. Like some invalid. Sara felt exposed and vulnerable. Of the graveyard shift, only Grissom had ever been to her apartment before and although she appreciated what they were doing for her, it was awkward to have them having seen her apartment before she 'prepped' for them to see it. There were, after all, things that she didn't want them to catch sight of.

"Sara?" Nick asked softly, putting an arm on her shoulder. Nick. God, he was always so sensitive. He seemed so attuned to what she was feeling. "Sweetie, we just wanna get you into bed so you can get better," his voice as rich with comfort and warmth. Sara took a deep breath and sighed. She'd have to face it all sometime. Best just do it. They were, after all, just looking out for her. She should be touched by their thoughtfulness.

"Thanks," She said softly, unrolling and pushing herself up into a sitting position.

"Here you go, Sar," Greg said, holding out her pyjamas with a small smile.

"Thanks Greggo," she returned the smile and a wide yawn escaped her. Slowly, she pushed herself onto her feet. Instantly, her hand went to the wall behind her bed for support. Nick was on his feet in a heartbeat, offering her his arm. Sara smiled miserably up at him.

"Thanks cowboy, but I'll be okay," she whispered, then added softly, "I have to be."

Reluctantly, Nick took a step back. His eyes didn't leave her until the bathroom door closed behind her. He turned to find Grissom and Greg both watching in solemn silence as he had.

"Damn, that girl is stubborn," Greg muttered. Nick rolled his eyes in agreement.

"The kettle must be off by now," Grissom said, looking out towards the kitchen. "Come on, Greg, let's see what we can whip up for our patient to eat."

Nick elected to stay behind to open the bed and help Sara when she emerged from the bathroom. Grissom and Greg soon found themselves rummaging around in the kitchen cabinets in search of food.

"Aaw, cute," Greg crooned.

"What Greg?" Grissom turned around, curious to see what could be 'cute' in such a fiercely disciplined woman's apartment.

"Sara's pictures," Greg pointed to three photos standing on the edge of the counter next to an empty fruit bowl. One was of the graveyard shift CSIs. They were all dressed in matching sports jackets.

"The department baseball game," Grissom explained, chuckling to himself. "That was before you joined the team."

"I can guess," Greg laughed, "You all look so different." In the photo, Grissom had no beard, Catherine had short hair, Warrick's 'fro was a great deal flatter and Sara had her hair tied up in two pigtails, peeking out from underneath a CSI cap.

"We beat them that year too," Grissom added with a satisfied smirk.

The photo next to it was unfamiliar. It showed two women dressed in bikinis sitting under an umbrella on what was presumably a beach. Greg instantly identified the woman on the left as Sara; her smile was hard to miss. The other woman was blond and Grissom didn't recognise her. He guessed she was a friend of Sara's from San Francisco.

"Looks like life in Frisco was pretty good," Greg commented.

"Hmmm, I'm sure it was _sometimes_," Grissom said softly.

The third photo showed two children, a boy and a girl sitting side by side on a couch. Greg guessed they were six, maybe seven years old. The boy had ruffled black hair, and was wearing a pair of baggy brown cargo pants and a black sweat top. The little girl was wearing a blue t-shirt with the long white sleeves of a vest poking out, a pair of worn jeans and toecap sneakers. Her loose shoulder-length brown hair and gap-toothed smile gave her away yet again. Grissom frowned. He hadn't noticed this photo the last time he'd been here. Still, Sara's family confession and getting her to bed afterwards had held most of his attention that day.

"Look at those freckles," Greg pointed to Sara's face. "She was so cute."

But Grissom's attention was focused on the cast on the little girl's arm. On Sara's arm. From what he knew of her, Sara wasn't an outdoorsy child, the kind that would break their arm on a jungle gym or falling out of a tree. Sara had been a reader – and books don't break people's arms. She hadn't mentioned anything about her father ever hitting her. Just her mother. Grissom felt a familiar sense of dread rising in him. What if this broken arm was one of many? What if her father really had abused her as well as her mother? What hadn't Sara told him?

A hand suddenly appeared in front of his face and Grissom jerked back.

"Earth to Grissom: you in there?" Greg joked, waving his hands like two windscreen wipers in front of his face.

"What is it Greg?" Grissom asked flatly, more than just a little annoyed at being interrupted.

"Water's boiled."

"Get four mugs. That cupboard," Grissom said, pointing. He went over to another cupboard and opened it, pulling out a jar of instant coffee, a sugar bowl and a box of teabags.

As Greg took the mugs from the cupboard he cast a suspicious glance at Grissom. His supervisor sure did know his way around Sara's apartment. Perhaps their relationship extended beyond friendship?

Sara emerged from the bathroom wearing an enticingly short pair of checked yellow and white cotton shorts and a pale yellow fleece top with Tweety on it. Nick's eyes drifted up and down her exposed legs and he felt a rush of heat. God, could those legs be any longer? 'Down boy', his mind reprimanded him. A ragged cough that had Sara keeled over and grasping the bathroom doorframe for support quickly killed the sensation and Nick hurried over to help her. Instead of taking his offered hand for support, Sara let herself fall onto his chest and wrapped her arms around him. Surprised but by no means unhappy, Nick sighed and let his arms close in around her. He kissed the top of her head softly and let his hand slowly follow her spine up and down her back.

"Hey you," he mumbled into her hair, "We'd better get you tucked into bed."

"Mmm?" Sara murmured, slowly losing herself in the warm tenderness of Nick's embrace.

"Am I gonna have to carry you again?" Nick mumbled, numbly clinging to reality. But her body was warm in his arms and he unconsciously pulled her closer, aware only of how perfectly their bodies fitted together and the soft vanilla scent of her hair. Nick felt suddenly selfish. Here she was, Sara, in his arms. Warm, loving, seeking comfort – trusting. So. Perfectly. With. Him. He didn't want to release her. Her body was trembling lightly but somehow he felt that it was something their embrace could remedy.

Nick's bliss was shattered when another cough took Sara's body, causing it to shudder in his arms. Reality struck like a bucket of ice water, drenching his bliss and chilling his heart.

As soon as it subsided, he tugged Sara towards the waiting confines of her bed.

"Sleep, now." He said softly.

"Wow! Sara!" Greg exclaimed suddenly. He was standing just inside the door, holding a hot water bottle. The young CSI's eyes were racing up and down her body, taking in every inch. Nick felt a surge of protectiveness but Greg only smiled. "I never had you pegged as a Tweety Bird fan," He said, raising a curious eyebrow.

Sara shrugged and sat down on her bed, "I never thought you weren't one. Guess that relationship between us that you're always suggesting will never really work out." A cheeky smile covered her weary features.

A grin stretched Nick's face. "That's twice she's got ya Greggo."

Greg leaned over to Nick and whispered, "I'm just going easy on her 'cause she's sick."

"I heard that!" Sara declared, lying back against the pile of pillows Nick had prepared and smiling smugly.

"And again?" Nick laughed.

Greg's smile dropped a little and he held out the hot water bottle. "Here. I'm going to help Grissom." When Nick took it Greg turned and headed out towards the kitchen.

Nick turned his attention back to Sara. The vivacity of her exchange with Greg, although short, had clearly left her feeling drained. She lay now with her eyes closed, frowning slightly. Nick lifted the duvet and put the hot water bottle against her feet then pulled the covers up to her shoulders.

"Mmm," Sara murmured happily, "That feels nice." Her words were slightly slurred, heavy with fatigue. He sat down on the bed beside her and kissed her forehead tenderly.

"Sar, I think Grissom's making you something to eat. You need to stay awake a little longer.

Sara nodded slowly and Nick glanced at the clock. It was nearing 10 pm. He'd usually be getting up around this time, but the Christmas party had started at 8. Not too great for the Graveyard shift but pretty normal for the other two shifts. This was the one day when the LV Crime Lab was closed so, thankfully, they didn't have to head back to the lab to start shift.

"I hope this will be okay. It's all I could find in the house besides a can of soda and a box of crackers," Grissom announced as he entered the room holding a plate and a mug. Behind him, Greg entered toting three mugs of hot coffee. Grissom carefully handed Sara the plate. It contained a piece of toast with peanut butter, cut up into small triangles. Sara smiled at the shapes before gratefully accepting a mug of tea from him.

"I chose camomile: should help you sleep," Grissom explained. "I know you don't drink normal tea."

"Thanks," Sara said softly, "I appreciate this."

"Here, let me help you," Nick offered to hold the plate while she sat up against the headboard. Once he was sure she was comfortable, he held out the plate. "Eat up!"

Like a small child, Sara's hand hovered over the triangles, carefully seeking the most appealing looking one. She took a small bite of her chosen piece and sighed happily.

"And some Java for the healthy," Greg smiled and handed Grissom and Nick each a mug.

"Thanks Greg," Grissom muttered, closely studying Nick and Sara. He noticed the way Nick was carefully watching Sara, offering her another piece of toast when she finished one. It was a small gesture, but sitting there beside her when she was so vulnerable made it intimate. Grissom had been glad that Nick seemed to have taken the lead. He, himself, was never good with other people, let alone sick ones. He couldn't openly confess how he felt about others. It seemed almost artificial to make it so obvious, as if proclaiming it too often minimised it; made it less _deep_. He showed his love in other ways: standing up for his team, listening to their problems and offering solutions- cutting Sara's toast up into small shapes like he'd done for Lindsay when she was smaller and sick. Plus, this was Sara: the one person he always seemed to have a way of hurting when she needed him. Nick, on the other hand, seemed to have a talent for caring, as Sara looked more relaxed than he had expected her to be, under the circumstances. Grissom felt a small pang of jealousy at Nick's ability to comfort, and be comforted by, others. The team had often held it against him when he over sympathised with victims, but Grissom could now see the value in being able to sympathise with others.

Still, there was something else in the way Nick was watching Sara. Something tender…loving. And not on a friendship level either. He remembered their subtle handholding earlier in the break room and something in his mind twigged. Could Nick and Sara _together_? He frowned at Sara, seeking something to either confirm or disprove his theory. Coffee eyes frowned back and Grissom flushed with embarrassment. She'd caught him staring unabashedly at her.

"What is it, Grissom?" Sara asked, frowning and lifting her mug to her lips. In a panic, Grissom's eyes darted away from her eyes and came to rest on her tea mug.

"Uh… Sara, you're shaking," He said, noticing the slow quivering of the mug.

"You were squinting like you do when you look for evidence," Sara said flatly.

"You look pale too," Grissom added, "Perhaps we should ask Doc. Robbins to do some blood work on you?"

Before Sara had a chance to protest, Greg stood up. "That's a good idea. I'll head back to the lab and ask him. I can stop at a pharmacy and pick up something for that cough, too."

"Uh uh," Sara shook her head. She passed her empty mug to Nick's waiting hand and snuggled down under her duvet. "You're overreacting. I just need sleep."

"Sara, they're right. You should check just to be sure," Nick said.

"You're so pale, you look anaemic," Grissom added.

"Nobody's taking any of my blood." Sara said firmly. "Guys, I really appreciate this – you've done a lot for me tonight. But leave it alone. I need to rest up before shift tomorrow."

"Oh no you don't," Grissom said quickly, "I'm putting you on a week of paid leave."

Sara just sighed in response.

"Hey Nick?" Greg asked, "You think you could give me a ride back to the lab. Now that our _tweety_ bird here is settled, I need to get home. I have a… meeting tomorrow."

"Sure. What's her name?" Nick asked with a knowing smile.

Greg glanced at Sara briefly then sighed, "Angela."

Sara chuckled and smiled as she let herself slip deeper into the soft warmth of her bed. The toast had been nice but drowsiness had begun to creep in on her again.

"I need to be going as well," Grissom rose, picking up their empty mugs. He looked down at Sara," Get some rest. Really. No police scanner. No forensics papers. And especially _no lab_. Just get better."

Sara smiled weakly, appreciating his concern. It was unlike her to be so submissive, but she really did feel like a truck had hit her. All she wanted was to slip into the all-numbing darkness of sleep and never come back.

"Feel better, Sar," Greg kissed her quickly on the cheek and waved as he and Grissom left the room.

Sara turned her eyes to Nick. Her hand found its way out from under the covers into his. She squeezed it and smiled. Nick leaned down and put his cheek against hers so his mouth was at her ear.

"I don't wanna leave you like this." He whispered.

Sara wrapped her arms around his back and pulled him into her. "I'll be okay. Take my key, drop them off and… come back."

"You don't mind me staying here tonight?" Nick questioned.

"I want you to, please?" Sara said softly. His cheek left hers but his face remained close as he looked deep into her eyes.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he smiled and gently pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was tender and warm. Sara's hand found its way into his hair and Nick found himself running his hand up and down her arm.

"Nick? You coming?" Greg's voice came.

Nick pulled away immediately, his eyes darting to the doorway. He sighed with relief. Nobody was there so their secret was safe.

"Yeah! I'll be there now," he called back. When he turned back to Sara, he found her eyes closed. Nick sighed and leaned down to gently kiss the tip of her nose. "You sleep well Sidle." He whispered.

"Hmmm," Sara rolled over onto her side and tugged the duvet up. "Come back soon, cowboy."

**A/N I'm going to have to end it there. Literature by recognised authors is calling my name. Still, I'd love to come home to some reviews after my exam tomorrow, up for it? Wink wink!**


	7. C: 7

**A/N Hi all! It was more than wonderful to find your reviews when I got home!!!! Thanks for putting in the time to review – it really does mean the world to me. The exam went well – turns out I know more about Wuthering Heights than I suspected. I wrote Bio today. It was really bad so hold thumbs for me. Actually, this week and next are my busiest so this is the last update for the next few days. **

**I must confess to one thing before you read this: I enjoy GSR romances and, while this is most definitely a snickers story, I'm not keen to portray Grissom in too bad a light. Yes, he has hurt Sara many times, but never intentionally, I believe. I like to think that if Sara were to find happiness with someone else Grissom would be happy for her - much dismayed at his own loss, of course, but mature enough to realise that he really did have his chance.**

**C:7**

Dropping Grissom and Greg off had taken longer than he'd expected as they suddenly seemed to cotton on to the fact that Sara had come with him to the party when Greg questioned where her Denali was parked. Nick had shrugged it off as casually as possible without appearing as if he had something to hide. Greg lost interest fast and wondered off in search of Catherine and Warrick, but Grissom scrutinized Nick carefully. The young man appeared cool and indifferent, but he knew him well enough to notice the signs. Nick's thumb was slowly rubbing over his cuticles: he was nervous about something.

"Something wrong, Nick?" Grissom asked, "You look a little uneasy."

Grateful that he could be honest, Nick sighed. "I'm worried about Sara."

"I understand that. We all are Nicky," Grissom said, genuine sympathy in his voice. "We only hear about things like this. We think they'll never happen to us."

"Yeah," Nick heaved a sigh and pulled his car keys out of his pocket. "Anyway, I'd better get going."

"I'll join you," Grissom said, going over to his chair and picking up his jacket. "I want to stop and check on Sara on the way. I don't know if it was our best idea leaving her alone."

Nick froze. "Griss…"

"Yeah Nick?" Grissom raised an eyebrow.

"You don't need to check on Sara."

A frown furrowed across the older man's face. "Why not? We're all concerned about her."

"Because I'm going there already."

Grissom shrugged, "So we'll go together. Show her some support and ease both of our concerns."

Nick sighed and let go, "Grissom, you don't understand. I'm going to spend the night with her. We wanted to keep it a secret- so Ecklie wouldn't hassle us. Griss, Sara and I are… together. We don't know where it's gonna go, but we're taking each day as it comes."

Grissom's features froze. His mouth hung open for a few seconds and Nick began to panic. Oh. God. 'I shouldn't have told him!' Nick's mind screamed. To his relief however, a knowing smile that bordered on smug crossed Grissom's face.

"I thought as much," He said, pausing to scan Nick's shocked face. "Oh yes, I saw all that sneaky handholding- and those wistful glances. We_ are _CSIs, you know." His joke seemed lost on Nick, who still looked a little shocked at his supervisor's lack thereof.

"So you're not mad?"

Grissom shrugged, "No. Should I be?"

"No!" Nick said hastily. He suddenly noticed Grissom's eyes drifting to the floor, his eyes glazed. "I…um… know you and Sara are pretty close. I hope this isn't a blow to you?" Nick asked softly.

Grissom shook his head. "No Nicky, it isn't. Sara and I respect each other and, while we do have history, there would never had been an _us_, if that's what you mean."

Unconsciously, Nick let out a breath of relief: beating one's boss to a girl they both liked could have created some serious tension.

"You know, Nick." Grissom added, looking to Nick with a slight smile on his lips, "I've known Sara for a long time. And I know that nobody has made her smile as much as you in the last couple years."

"You think?" Nick smiled at the thought.

"I know." Grissom confirmed. "And I also know that you're the only guy I can see her with."

Nick let out a semi-relived, semi-joyous laugh. "Thanks Griss. I really appreciate this."

Grissom returned his smile. "Now, about Ecklie?"

Nick's smile vanished "Is it against department policy?"

Grissom shrugged," I have no idea but I don't see why it would be."

"That's great!"

"But that doesn't mean you should advertise this." Grissom said sternly, bringing Nick down a notch. "After my little _talk_ with Ecklie earlier, I suspect he's gonna be scrutinizing us for a while, especially Sara, I'm afraid."

"So… we keep it quiet? Wait a minute, are you advising me to lie?" Nick raised a curious and slightly mischievous eyebrow at his supervisor.

"It's my job to protect my people," Grissom said. "All I'm saying is is _act normal_."

Nick nodded in understanding, all too grateful for Grissom's understanding to disagree with him.

"Besides," Grissom added with a mischievous grin, "I'd like to see who in the team figures it out first."

Nick let out a laugh and shook his head. Typical Grissom.

Grissom walked up to him and showed him to the door. "Nick, I'm glad you told me about this. Thanks."

"Thanks Grissom, for understanding. You really are a great supervisor to us."

Grissom raised an eyebrow.

"And a great friend," Nick added. Before Grissom could argue, he turned to go. "I'll see you bright and late for shift tomorrow, boss. Thanks!" With that, Nick turned and left, feeling as if a huge weight had suddenly been lifted from his shoulders. At least Grissom knew. That was a giant step in the right direction.

Grissom stood at the door to his office, watching Nick go. A thousand emotions were running through him. Most strong was the fierce disappointment in himself for letting Sara go. Deep down, however, he knew that it had been inevitable – he had never been able to take the leap to give her what she needed. Despite the love they'd shared in the past, their relationship had evolved over the past years: it had become less romantic and more respectful. The love that he felt for her now was based on that: respect for her as a criminalist, a woman and a devout friend whom he would always trust and love.

The second emotion was surprise. Nick and Sara. Right under his nose it had happened. Still, right under his nose, Sara had slowly fallen to pieces without him even blinking an eye. Besides, Nick and Sara would do well together. Both had the capacity to love unerringly. Nick would never hesitate to tell Sara that she was loved – something Grissom knew she desperately wanted – _needed_- to hear. They would compliment one another perfectly.

The third emotion was growing softly in his chest and Nicks' words rang through in his ears. As a supervisor, he'd always wondered if he was good at his job. While he always fought for his team, he never coddled them. He'd always believed that to learn for oneself was better than to be shown but he'd questioned whether that was the best way to guide his CSIs. Nick's words had given him that warm fuzzy feeling that comes from knowing you're doing something right – and that your effort is felt and appreciated. A slow smile crossed Grissom's face. Yes, he was doing okay. Hell, the way he was dealing with his shock at Sara's new attachment was impressing even him but to hear it from Nick made all the difference.

Down the corridor, he spotted Warrick, Catherine and Greg heading towards him. Grissom turned and switched off the light in his office and closed the door, then turned to face his companions, a smile on his face.

xxx

By the time Nick arrived back at Sara's apartment, it was nearing 11pm. After a short shower, he emerged from Sara's bathroom in a pair of boxers and a long-sleeved black t-shirt, feeling ready for a good night's rest. It was surprising considering that he'd usually be at the lab around this time. Still, he was glad for the time off.

Nick stood in the doorway to Sara's bedroom and let his eyes scan her sleeping form. By the look of things, she was out for the count, still snuggled deep under the blankets. Her body looked small and delicate on the huge bed and Nick allowed himself to drift closer. She was lying on her side, with her right hand resting palm-up on the pillow in front of her. Two nasty red scars crossed her palm, running parallel and Nick was suddenly reminded of the explosion Catherine had caused at the lab. Nick frowned. Sara had cut her left hand that day- and it had left only one scar. He still remembered her remarking how glad she was that she was right-handed and so, was still capable of writing. Where then, has this come from? As far as Nick knew, Sara had never been cut at a crime scene. And these could not have come from her encounter with Howard Phipps the previous day. Nick surmised that they were old scars, possibly from a childhood playground fall. No, something in his mind continued to scream at him. These looked more like defensive wounds.

Nick's thoughts were interrupted by a small sigh from Sara. A small frown crossed her face and she rolled over, a strand of hair falling over her face. On impulse, Nick reached out and brushed it behind her ear. He cast a glance at the empty pillow beside her, wondering. Eventually, he decided against getting in. Sara might not appreciate him taking liberties while she was sick. He turned and started towards the door when a sharp pain struck his foot.

"Aah – damn!" Nick cursed, looking down to see Sara's shoes where he'd dropped them beside her bed. God, who could have known that stilettos were not only dangerous on a woman's feet? Nick quickly shut his mouth, not wanting to disturb Sara, and mouthed several obscenities. As the pain faded, he turned back to the door to the living room.

"Nick? Is that you?" A soft voice asked from behind him. He turned to find a bleary-eyed Sara squinting at him over her shoulder in the dark room.

"Uh, yeah," he said, going back to the bed and sitting down. "Sorry. I didn't want to wake you."

"It's okay." She whispered. "I'm glad you came back." Slowly, she reached for his face, softly running her thumb across his cheek.

"Me too," he said.

A hoarse cough escaped Sara and her body shuddered. "Ugh," she muttered when it subsided, "This sucks."

"Damn," Nick muttered, "I forgot to stop at the pharmacy."

"There's cough syrup in the bathroom cabinet," Sara said.

I few moments later, Nick returned with the bottle. "Strawberry flavour. Sounds good."

Sara shrugged. "I don't actually care as long as it works."

"Guess that's true," Nick agreed. "Here, open up," he said, holding a spoonful out to her.

Sara swallowed it and frowned. "I feel like a five-year old."

Nick put the bottle down, "Well, you certainly don't look like one, gorgeous" he said, pressing his lips to hers for a kiss. When he finally pulled away, he sighed. "I'd better head to bed: catch a little extra shut eye one our night off. Do you have any extra blankets?"

"What do you mean?"

"The couch isn't very warm without a blanket," Nick shrugged. "Espeically not in this cold weather."

Sara frowned. "Actually, I was hoping you'd stay with me tonight," she said softly.

"Sara.. You're not…"

"Just to sleep. Please?"

Nick smiled tenderly at her. Truth be told, he desired nothing more than to do just that.

"Sure," he moved to the other side of the bed and climbed in, pulling the covers over himself.

"Come closer," Sara said. "I know this relationship pretty young but you're still my best friend and I want your arms around me."

Nick needed no further invitation. It was as if she was reading his thoughts. He scooted into the middle of the bed and reached out to pull Sara over to him. She snuggled into him, resting her head just under his chin and wrapping an arm around his chest. Nick's arms crept around her thin body protectively and he sighed contentedly.

"I love you Nicky," Sara took the words from his mouth. "Thanks for being here with me."

"I love you too, Sara," He whispered back and softly kissed the top of her head, "There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

A small smile crossed Sara's face and stayed there as both drifted into a deep sleep.

**A/N Short? Yes. The end? Hell, NO! Any thoughts? Let me know and I'll have the next one up for you ASAP!**


	8. C: 8

**A/N Hello there! Betcha didn't expect this so late? Well, at least it's here now as exams are finally over. SMILES! I'm having quite a lot of fun writing little interludes of new characters – you'll see two in this chapter as Nick learns more about Sara's past. It's a nice long chapter too!**

**Thank you for taking the time to review. Every word that comes my way plays a part in the posting of the next chapter. I heart you all, dear reviewers.**

**The song used in this chapter is called Something for the Pain by Bon Jovi. If there's any possibility of you getting hold of it, I advise you to. It's really a great song – and also so applicable to Sara's life. Seriously, give it a listen.**

**C: 8**

BANG!

Nick jerked awake at the sound, hastily casting his sleep-filled eyes around the room. For a moment, he panicked, wondering where he was but the sound of a soft sigh from beside him brought back his memory. Sara was still asleep beside him, her lips parted and her breathing peaceful.

BANG!

Nick's eyes darted around the room, seeking the source of the thumping.

"Miss Sidle! Oh Miss Sidle!" a shrill voice screeched. The words were followed with more banging. "Sara Sidle! I know you're in there!"

Sara groaned and rolled over, keeping her eyes closed but frowning. "_Please_. Not her," she whined.

Nick opened his mouth to ask who 'her' was but the shrill voice persisted, along with the loud thumping on what Nick gathered was the front door.

"Sara!" the voice shrieked, "I saw you sneaking in with all those men last night! Open this door!"

BANG!

"God! Who in the Hell is that?" Nick asked, incredulity in his voice.

"Mrs. Maitland," Sara groaned, rolling over to open her eyes. "My nosey neighbour." She tossed back the covers irately and made to get up when suddenly a sharp pain shot through her head.

"Argh," Sara's hand went to her forehead and she dropped back onto the bed. "My head," she winced. Nick put his hand on her shoulder and coaxed her to lie down again. He pulled the covers back up over them. "Leave it, honey," he said gently. "She'll have to go eventually."

Another bang sounded followed by a harsh, "Sara _Louise_ Sidle!"

BANG!

Sara squinted in pain and rubbed her forehead furiously, trying to ease the pain. Noise like that did nothing for a headache. Nick noticed the movement and felt anger rise in his chest.

"That's it!" he said angrily. Sara watched with wide eyes as he marched from the room.

"Sara-"

"Can I help you?" Nick demanded, ripping the door open. The Mrs. Maitland that stood before him was a stocky, wrinkled woman – rather matronly looking. She had bulging snooker-ball eyes, a thin, hooked nose and small whiskers sprouted from a mole on her chin. Some of her hair was pulled in to a bun but most of it stuck out in wild tufts. At the unexpected sight of Nick she drew back a little.

"I'm looking for Sara Sidle," she said primly, pursing her lips. "And… you are?"

Nick put on an overly cheerful smile and held out his hand, "Nick Stokes, ma'am."

She frowned with disdain at his hand then leaned up on her toes, straining to see past him into the apartment. "One of many, I'm sure," she muttered.

Nick frowned, "Is there something that I can help you with?"

"I want to talk to Sara – the girl you were…uh… _with_ last night."

Nick's hand clenched into a fist at the woman's presumptuousness but he kept his cool. "I'm sorry but Sara's not well. She's sleeping."

"Hangover, no doubt."

That, Nick couldn't let slide.

"Hey!" he snapped, "Sara's sick. From working too hard and not getting any sleep because of your hellish electrical repairs."

The woman looked wholly insulted and stood with her mouth open at his outburst. She frowned and pursed her lips. After a moment's consideration, a sugary – and completely false – smile contorted her face.

"Well, forgive me," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "But she leaves here in the middle of the night and most of the time, doesn't come back until at least midday. What is an upstanding citizen supposed to think about a pretty girl like her, spending her nights on the town? And then last night, coming home with _three_ of you?"

"Perhaps a so-called upstanding citizen would realise that it really is none of her business? Sara doesn't have to report everything she does to you."

"I'm the _president_ of this building's security association. It's my duty to know what the people who live here are up to," She said firmly.

"Then listen up Mrs Maitland." Nick said firmly," because you've got it all wrong. The three of us you saw last night? We're Sara's colleagues. We all work with the Las Vegas Crime Lab. Sara's a CSI! We work night shift so when she leaves late at night, she's going to work – with the police."

Mrs Maitland's eye bulged in shock but her frown returned quickly, "How do I know you're not lying to cover up _illicit_ activities?" She scanned Nick's boxers and T-shirt with a beady eye, "You certainly aren't dressed like a colleague. And if what you said is true, you should be at work now."

"Look," Nick said, "Sara collapsed at the lab last night. My supervisor gave us the night off so I could bring her home."

"And what about my proof? I'm not head of the security association for nothing, my boy. I saw how dolled up she was last night."

Nick sighed and cast his eyes back into Sara's apartment, looking for some sign of her being a CSI. He spotted her department ID on the kitchen counter and reached for it.

"Here," he held it up for the old woman to inspect. At that second, a loud retching cough came from Sara's bedroom and he saw the old woman's firm resolve of suspicion crumble. An embarrassed blush flushed her cheeks.

"Heavens," she said softly. "I am sorry. If she'd just said something."

"Yeah. But she shouldn't have had to," Nick nodded, feeling more than a little satisfaction at her embarrassment. By the sounds of things – their rude awakening included – she'd been harassing Sara quite a bit.

"Sara's going to need rest," he said.

Mrs Maitland's guilt made her nod furiously in agreement but her eyes shone with the plans already brewing in her head, "An LVPD officer. In _my_ building," she smiled.

Nick ignored her. "She'd been overworking and she was attacked yesterday at a crime scene. I know she hasn't been getting much sleep at home."

The old woman's blush deepened, "Our wiring was faulty."

"I trust the problem has been fixed?" Nick asked, sounding more and more like a teacher chiding a naughty child.

"Yes- yes! It was fixed last night."

"Good," Nick put his hand on the door. "It was nice meeting you, Mrs Maitland."

"Indeed." She paused and looked up at him from underneath a heavy blush. "And tell Sara… I'm sorry."

"Sure. Goodbye." Nick shut the door and smiled to himself. No doubt, Sara was finally going to be able to get some real rest – and probably the respect she deserved – from now on.

When Nick entered the bedroom again, Sara was lying on her back, watching him closely.

"How did you get rid of her? That was record timing," She asked.

Nick shrugged and sat down beside her. "I set her straight. Told her the truth about you."

Sara frowned. "I shouldn't have to expose my life to her because she's too damn presumptuous to ask why I go out at night."

"Sara, I didn't expose your life. I just told her that you're a CSI and that you work nights. That's all," Nick insisted.

A smile slowly spread across her face, "Really?"

"Yeah – and I chewed her out about the repairs a bit. From now on you're gonna be getting a whole lot more respect around here," Nick added.

"Aaw!" Sara said, making a dive for his middle and wrapping her arms around him. "Thank you." She released him and looked into his eyes. "That was very chivalrous of you. Nobody's stood up for me like that in a long time. Playing my white knight?"

"Oh honey," Nick said, pulling her to him. "For a pretty princess like you, I'll stand up to a thousand Mrs Maitlands."

Sara let out a giggle at the thought but soon found Nick's lips pressed against her own. The kiss was intense, sending tiny sparks of heat rushing along her arms. Sara moaned happily and found herself leaning into Nick, seeking more. Nick's arms went around her back, pulling her onto his lap as he sought to deepen the kiss. His hand dropped to rest on her thigh, making Sara suddenly aware of the shortness of her pyjama shorts. Her heart began to race, and her hands found their way into his hair. Dizzied by the sensations racing through them, Sara allowed herself to tumble backwards, taking Nick with her. But when her head struck the mattress, a red-hot pain raced across her skull, jolting her back to reality.

"Aah," Sara cried out, wincing.

"Sara?" Nick asked, quickly moving off her, "Did I hurt you?"

"No," Sara said softly, "Just my head again."

Nick sighed, "Can I get you something? Paracetamol?"

"They're in the drawer next to the bed," Sara said, blinking miserably at the loss of what could have been a most delicious encounter. The interruption was just another rude reminder of that state that her body really was in. It made her angry. She hated feeling weak. The instincts that she'd developed as a child screamed that it was dangerous, too.

"Here you go," Nick handed her two white tablets and a bottle of water that had been standing on the bedside table.

"Thanks," Sara sat up slowly and took the pills. Nick watched her for a few seconds until a low grumble interrupted his thoughts.

"Sorry," Sara said, blushing.

"You hungry?" Nick smiled and raised an eyebrow at her.

"And cold too," Sara noted, rubbing her arms.

"Yeah, it looks pretty cold outside," Nick said, going to open the bedroom curtain. The day outside was misty and cold with moody clouds covering the sky. Another miserable day. "Why don't you take a shower and I'll rustle up some breakfast?"

"You know, I think I'll do just that," Sara smiled.

A few minutes later, she disappeared into the bathroom. Nick returned to the living room. A look at the clock told him it was 8:30 am: time for breakfast, or what was usually dinner for him. He knew there was nothing in the house and so, guessed that if they didn't want peanut butter toast again, he'd have to go out. Nick pulled on a pair of sweat pants, increasingly grateful that he'd stopped to pick up clothes at his place the night before, and went to pull open the curtains.

Turning away, Nick let his eyes wonder over Sara's apartment. It looked different in the day. More open. The phone rang suddenly and Nick's eyes darted to the bedroom door, wondering if Sara would hear it. Almost immediately, the answering machine switched on.

"_Hey! It's Sara. I'm not in – you know the drill._" The machine beeped.

"Hey Dollface! It's Andy – I know you're at work, working your ass off – or at least checking out that Texan you rave about all the time - but this is the only time I can call. Listen, our DA's gonna try get hold of you sometime today. It's…about Laura. But before you freak out, I got something to make you smile so listen up. Remember this: "

In the background, there was a click then a burst of rock music and two voices singing loudly. Nick recognised the first one immediately. It was Sara. The other one sounded like this Andy guy.

"_Loneliness has found a home in me, _

_My suitcase and guitar are my only family._

_I've tried to need someone like I needed me_

_Well I opened up my heart but all I did was bleed,_

_I don't need no lover just to get screwed_

_They don't make no band-aid that's gonna cover my bruise…_

_C'mon C'mon C'mon…_

_Gimme something for the pain_

_Gimme something for the blues_

_Gimme something for the pain_

_When I feel I'm hanging on a hangman's noose._

_Gimme something for the rain_

_Gimme something I can use_

_To get me through the night, make me feel alright_

_Something like you_

_C'mon C'mon C'mon…_"

The music stopped suddenly and Andy spoke again, "Call me Sara Lou."

The line went dead and Nick was left feeling thoroughly confused. Questions raced through his mind. Who was this guy? He obviously knew Sara well. Too well? Nick thought, wondering just what exactly their relationship was. He knew the song well: he liked to listen to it when things got too overwhelming and he needed a release. To hear Sara singing along to it with so much passion was both exciting and worrying. Exciting, because it was yet another thing they had in common (plus she really did have a good voice) but worrying because her voice was filled with pain.

Nick frowned, deciding to ask Sara about it as soon as they'd finished breakfast. He pulled on his shoes and grabbed his wallet, heading for the door.

xxx

Sara took her time in the shower, savouring the feel of the warm water on her shoulders. It was so comforting, gently numbing all the aches and pains in her body. She soon found herself leaning with her forehead against the cold tiles, letting the water wash over her. She'd slept more deeply in Nick's arms than she had in the last two years and, while her mind felt better already, her body was still screaming for rest.

Sara wasn't sure how long she stood there, letting the warm water wash away her weariness. When she finally did pull herself from the water's seductive lure, she heard the front door slam and hurried to dry off her hair and put on clean underwear under her yellow pyjamas.

Emerging from the bathroom, she found Nick in the kitchen, standing in front of the stove holding a spatula.

"Hey gorgeous," He said, holding out an arm to her. Smiling, Sara moved into it, happy for the hug.

"Mmm, smells gorgeous," Sara said, sniffing the air. "Is that an omelette?"

"It sure is," Nick said proudly. "And before you ask, no, I didn't make it outta peanut butter, bread and the expired tub of yoghurt in your fridge. There's a store two blocks down the road. I went for a jog."

"You ran to the store, just so you could make breakfast for me?" Sara asked.

"Sure did," Nick said. "Oh, and I made this for you too." He leaned over to the other counter and handed her a fresh hot water bottle.

"Thanks," Sara gratefully accepted the bottle and sat down on the nearest bar chair, leaning with her elbows on the counter. Her eyes fell on the answering machine and its flashing red button. "Did someone call?"

"Yeah," Nick paused, unsure of what to say. He'd wanted to wait a while before broaching the subject with Sara, but if she was asking, he guessed he could only be honest. "It…uh… went straight to the answering machine."

Sara leaned over and pushed the play button, expecting another message from Grissom. Nick couldn't help but watch her carefully over his shoulder as she listened to the message. At Andy's voice, a warm smile spread over her face. She even chuckled a little at his remark about 'that Texan' and flashed her eyes at Nick. But when the words, 'it's about Laura' filled her ears, Sara's smile faded into a anxious expression. The light in her eyes seemed to die until the song came on. As it slowly played through, Nick saw a number of emotions flit across her face. Recognition; nostalgia; pain; mischief: the twisted pleasures of the bittersweet.

"_Call me Sara Lou_", the machine finished and beeped.

Sara sat, dead quiet, her eyes staring at the machine in front of her. Slowly a small smile managed to work its way across her features.

"Sara?" Nick asked from his position in front of the stove. "Who was that?"

Sara sighed, "That, was on old friend from San Francisco. Andrew Metzler."

"You okay?" Nick asked, frowning at her.

"Yeah."

"You look a little shaken."

"I'm fine," Sara insisted, showing Nick to leave it alone. After a few moments of silence, however, Nick decided to continue the topic.

"Sounds like a nice guy? How long have you known him?" He said, trying to make it sound like a casual question.

"Since I was seven," Sara said, keeping her tone cool. She'd recognised Nick's tone immediately and knew exactly what he was asking. "And no, Nicky, he's no competition for you. We're just friends. We've seen a lot of battles together." She leaned back and pointed to a photo of two young children stuck on the fridge. "That's him on the right."

Nick smiled, relieved, and asked, "Cute! Is he also a CSI?"

"Close: a detective," Sara said. "I worked with him on some cases back in Frisco."

"That's a nice singing voice he's got there," Nick commented, opening the cupboard in front of him in search of a plate. Yours is pretty good too."

"In the cupboard to your right," Sara said, pointing. She sighed before answering his comment, "Yeah, I can believe he has a recording of that."

"Pretty angsty stuff – great rock – but angsty nonetheless," Nick said, pulling out two plates and setting them on the counter.

"Like I said, I saw a lot a drama with Andy," Sara said.

"So who's Laura?" Nick asked.

A loud squelch sounded as the hot water bottle slipped from Sara's frozen fingers. Nick turned around to find Sara motionless, her mouth half open but without words. Pain flashed in her eyes and she drew a haggard breath. Suddenly realising how obvious she was being, Sara bent down to pick up the bottle.

"Uh…just somebody from San Francisco," she said shakily.

"Sara?" Nick frowned at her, turning away from the plates. "You okay..?"

"Yeah," Sara said, visibly sucking up her strength and nodding. Nick's fingers found hers.

"Sara, you're shaking." Nick said softly, his eyes searching hers.

"Nick, I don't know what to say to you," she said, her eyes screaming for comfort. Inside, Sara was cursing herself. Normally she'd have a better handle on her emotions but the past few weeks appeared to have weakened more than her body.

"How about just telling me how you know her?" Nick asked softly.

Sara sniffed, "Her name's Laura – as in Laura Sidle. She's my mother."

"Is she sick?" Nick asked, immediately guessing at what could have upset Sara.

"God, I wish," Sara replied miserably. She looked Nick in the eye. "I really didn't want to tell you this. Not so soon."

"Then I'll wait-"

Sara shook her head, "That's not fair to you, Nick. You've done so much for me, you deserve to know. I just… don't want this to change things between us."

"Sara, I'm as much your friend as your boyfriend. I've known you for close on six years. I won't bail on you," Nick gave her a reassuring smile.

Sara sighed and nodded. "My mother isn't sick. She's in jail because she killed my father. I met Andy in foster care. My first foster home lasted a week. The guy tried to commit suicide and social services moved me the very next day. The second lasted a month. It wasn't too bad until the guy started beating his wife one night. It was too much like my parents. I ran away."

Sara paused to let the news settle before continuing, "Andy was with me at my next home. We were together for almost three years. Life was pretty good. He's only a year older than me: ended up in foster care after his mother ran out on them and his dad was killed in a B&E. We looked after each other. We went through everything together and when our foster mother died in a car accident and we were split up, we stayed in touch. We'd meet each other after school, sneak out at night to lie on the grass in the park and talk about life. We'd talk about what had happened to other foster kids: abuse, starvation- rape. It terrified us but we stayed strong together. Whenever something bad happened to one of us, the other would always be there to ease the pain. When we finished High School, he joined the force and I went to Harvard."

"Sara-"

"The song that you heard us singing? That was a couple years ago. You remember when I took some time off?"

Nick nodded.

"I went back to Frisco for a week. They were thinking of releasing my mother and wanted me to testify – in her favour. I went back there, said exactly what I saw her do and spent the rest of my time with Andy. Didn't even see her. Recalling the whole thing shook me up so Andy took me out one night and we ended up singing that song. He'd just lost his partner in a drug bust gone wrong so we both felt pretty weighed down by things. It was a great release."

"But, don't you ever want to talk to your mother?" Nick asked, his mind heavy with questions and fraught with horror. Sara had _watched_ her mother kill her father.

Sara cast her eyes down to her feet. "Nick, when I was thirteen, I got a chance. I ended up in the best foster home ever. My 'mother' was an older woman, single, new at foster parenting so the state only let her take care of one kid. That was me. She was like a real parent – not like the cruel foster parents I'd seen in the past. I daresay she loved me for my geekiness – she was a writer for a science magazine –, treated me like her own daughter and, after a few months, she requested adoption." Sara paused, gathering her strength. "My mother refused." Sara's voice broke. "She refused to sign the fucking papers to save me!"

Tears flowed freely from Sara's eyes and sobs caught in her throat. Nick pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. God, she hadn't been lying when she said she'd seen a couple battles.

"Shh," He whispered to her, offering comfort. "God, Sara. I'm so sorry."

When Sara's body stopped shaking and she calmed down, she sniffed and looked at him. "I don't need sympathy, Nick. That was years ago. Things are different now. I was one of the lucky ones who got out of the system unscathed." Sara was surprising herself. She hadn't come close to being able to disclose her past as easily to Grissom. Still, something about Nick made her comfortable, eased her pain and made her less ashamed of her tears.

"So, Andy's phone call now means…?"

"That they're probably looking at releasing her a few years early again." Sara finished. She pulled back from his arms and swatted her tears away. She walked over to the plates and smiled, "We'd better eat these. They're getting cold."

Amazed at how fast she'd changed the topic, Nick turned around with confusion written across his face. "Sara…?"

She smiled bittersweetly and shrugged, "I know what you're thinking Nick. It's been a crazy life, but I've dealt with it. And I'm fine. Andy's call just came at a really bad time."

Nick suddenly realised just how strong Sara was. He knew that he would have cracked, had he seen the horror that she had. His mind was brimming with questions but for now, he understood her need to just get on with life. To dwell was to fester.

"Well," he said, getting up to put the kettle on for coffee. "You don't have to deal with it alone anymore. Coffee?"

Sara's face lit up at the possibility and finally, they moved on from the pain of the last few moments, accepting what had been exposed and moving on to what was going to be a most scrumptious breakfast.

**A/N Well, yet again, my story has run away with me. I seem to really be getting bogged down in angst lately. Strange. Anyway, despite the high-drama, let me know what you thought – _pretty please_ (with snickers on top?)!**

**I'm going away until the 12th with no possibility of posting but fear not I shall be back to update ASAP as chapter 9 is half way!**


	9. C: 9

**A/N Hi I'm back! I'm so sorry this took so long to get up. I came back from holiday with a thousand things to do. Still, thank you for all your very special reviews – I hope you enjoy this one!**

**C: 9**

"So, your second name's Louise, huh?" Nick asked as he dried off their breakfast plates.

"Uh huh," Sara nodded from her position next to the sink. "My dad's name was Samuel. My mom's name began with an L so she insisted I have a name that also had one since my first name started with an S. My parents were real hippies in that way."

Nick chuckled. "At least you got a normal-sounding name from them."

"So what's your second name Nick?" Sara asked, cocking her head to one side.

Nick paused, "A conversation for another time."

"Oh, come on. You know mine," Sara whined.

"I don't think so, sorry babe," Nick shook his head. Sara pouted and opened her mouth to complain but was stopped by a wide yawn. Nick glanced at the clock. 9:45. They'd usually be home from work by now, if they weren't working double, that is.

"You tired?" he asked.

"Yeah," Sara frowned, "But I've gotten so much sleep already. I shouldn't be."

"It's the fatigue: makes you need to sleep a whole lot more." Nick explained.

"Hmmm," Sara closed her eyes and leaned against his chest. Nick dropped his towel onto the counter and put his arms around her. He sighed, savouring the warmth of her body and gave Sara a gentle squeeze. She giggled lightly and squeezed back. It was small but brought home to Nick the significance of the unspoken language between them. They didn't have to say it to show it.

Sara's body shuddered in his arms as a cough rose in her throat. She pulled back from his arms to cover her mouth and grip her stomach. When it subsided, she smiled up at him as if nothing had happened.

Nick didn't buy it. "That's it. Into bed, now. Where did I leave the cough syrup?"

"Nick, I'm fine. I'm not-" another wide yawn interrupted Sara and she paused for a few seconds, forced to let it pass, "-tired."

"Uh huh?" Nick raised a doubting eyebrow.

Sara looked at him, ready to begin arguing but stopped. Her eyes floated past him and lit up with delight.

"Look!"

"What?" Nick spun around and followed her gaze. Outside, snow was slowly drifting down from the sky, silently blanketing the city.

"I love snow," Sara said, going over to the window.

"Really? I always had you pegged as a summer fan," Nick said, going to stand beside her.

"Mm hmm," Sara nodded. "I grew up in a warm area but I always liked winter more."

Nick put his arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him, sighing deeply. For a few minutes they stood in silence, watching the snow slowly cover everything. It seemed to quiet the frenetic life outside, muffling the noises of everyday life, numbing the pains and bringing magic to the world once more.

Five minutes later, Nick was pulling the duvet up over a semi-conscious Sara who was fast falling asleep. He gave her a kiss on the forehead and tiptoed out into the living room. Nick closed the bedroom door and reached out for the TV remote. Although Sara was tired, he'd slept well and felt wide awake. Some mindless entertainment was just what he needed.

BANG!

A loud knock on the door sounded and Nick scrambled up from the couch, swearing that he would personally execute the knocker if they'd woken Sara. He pulled the door open to find Mrs Maitland smiling sweetly at him. Smiling did not suit her and the overall effect was a grotesque wince.

"Hi Mrs Maitland," He said, sighing inwardly. _Not again._

"Hello again young man. I came to see how Sara is doing?"

"She's okay. I just put her to bed actually."

"Oh, that's good. So she's asleep?"

"Er…yes." Nick nodded slowly, suspicious.

"That's too bad. I was hoping to have a word with her," Mrs Maitland looked genuinely disappointed.

"What about? I could give her a message?" Nick offered: anything to get rid of the old woman.

"Oh, it was just about the building's security plans. I'll come back later."

"Okay then, see you." Nick waved and closed the door. He returned to the couch and was about to turn on the TV when another knock sounded. Grumbling in irritation, he got up and opened the door. Mrs Maitland was there again, clutching a tin. She thrust it to him.

"I nearly forgot. I made these for you two," She explained. "They're bacon and cheese. I hope you enjoy them."

Nick was completely taken aback. "Er… thanks Mrs Maitland."

"It's my pleasure, young man – Nick, did you say your name was? Tell poor, sweet Sara that if there's anything she needs, I'm just down the hallway, okay?" She gave him the smile-wince again, exposing yellowing teeth.

"I'll tell her," Nick said, trying not to grimace. Nick closed the door and rolled his eyes. He peered into the tin and discovered hot bacon and cheese muffins- obviously freshly baked. So his confrontation with the old woman earlier _had_ changed her mind about Sara. It was now _her _aiming for appeasement. Nick set the tin down and helped himself to one. Sara didn't eat bacon so he was sure she wouldn't mind him eating them. Satisfied, he positioned himself on the couch once more.

BANG!

"What now!?" Nick moaned, hauling himself from his seat for a third time. He hated being interrupted, especially if it was by the same witchy neighbour. Despite Mrs Maitland's apology and the muffins, he still felt ill disposed towards her. Their early morning encounter had shown him that she was as sly and fickle as she was sweet and considerate.

BANG!

_And again?_ Anger rose in Nick and he growled as he ripped the door open. "Yes?!"

Catherine leaned back, her eyes wide. Nick stopped, his mouth hanging open.

"Catherine?"

"Nick?" she asked, unsure of which of them was more surprised to see the other.

"What are you doing here?" They said at the same time.

Nick recovered first, "Checking on Sara, you?"

"The same, actually," Catherine said, holding up a purple shopping bag.

Nick opened the door and stepped back to allow her to enter. "Sorry if I snapped at you. There's an old hag living down the hall who keeps coming over."

Catherine chuckled, "No worries." She looked around the apartment. "So where's Sara?"

"She's just gone to lie down for a bit," Nick explained, trying to give as little info as to his role in being there.

"She better?"

"Yeah. I managed to get her to eat something but she's still a little weak."

Catherine followed him through to the bedroom. Sara was lying on her side facing the door with the covers pulled up to her chin. Her eyes were closed and her breathing, slow.

"I think she's fallen asleep," Catherine whispered, glancing from Sara to Nick.

"Hey," a soft greeting came. Catherine turned around to see Sara blinking at her, clearly half-asleep. She stepped into the room with Nick close behind her and pulled up a chair next to the bed.

"Sorry. We thought you were asleep," she explained, feeling a stab of guilt at having woken Sara.

"The banging woke me," Sara explained, and, looking to Nick, she added, "I thought I heard Mrs Maitland again."

Nick nodded, "She came by a few minutes ago. Dropped off some bacon and cheese muffin thingies."

Sara pulled up her nose and frowned at the thought but said nothing.

"I'm going to make a cup of coffee," Nick said, heading for the door, "Anyone gonna join me?"

Both women nodded. When Nick left, Catherine turned back to the brunette before her. Sara's face was pale, almost unnaturally so and it was unnerving.

"So how are you feeling?" Catherine asked.

"Better," Sara smiled weakly. Suddenly the air caught in her throat and her body shuddered. The cough was rough and dry- grating. The force of it made Sara's head ache and her throat burned. When it finally subsided, she took a deep breath and turned her attention back to her friend. Catherine's frown was plastered with scepticism and she raised an eyebrow at Sara.

"Okay," Sara sighed, "I feel terrible. But I'm still better than yesterday."

"Well, I was taking Lindsay Christmas shopping and I …uh… thought I'd bring you some supplies," Catherine said, lifting a large purple bag onto the bed. "I know how bored you get without work." Sara raised a curious eyebrow and slowly pushed herself up. Catherine nudged the bag towards her and Sara accepted it with a tentative smile.

"Thanks." Reaching in, Sara found the latest copy of Cosmo, a huge bar of chocolate, a bottle of iced green tea and a crossword puzzle book.

"Grissom told me he didn't want anything to do with work near you so I decided to go with the next best thing to Forensics Monthly," Catherine explained.

Sara smiled, "Thanks Cath- this means a lot. You really didn't have to."

Catherine shrugged, returning the smile, "Us girls gotta stick together sometimes."

"Three cups of coffee!" Nick called brightly as he walked into the room.

"Bless you!" Catherine said, accepting a mug from him.

"Thanks honey," Sara said.

Honey? Catherine's mind jumped at the use of the word. She shook it off quickly though: Sara and Nick were good friends, and, although the she'd never heard the brunette utter the word before, Catherine had seen some pretty unexpected things happen with Sara over the past two days.  
Nick seated himself on the side of the bed next Sara and casually slipped his hand over her free hand. He squeezed gently and, a few seconds later, she squeezed back. 

"Is that a maple dresser?" Catherine asked suddenly, her eyes fixed on the cupboard.

"Uh huh," Sara nodded.

"Wow," Catherine rose and ran her hand along the top. "Pricey. How did you afford this on a government salary?"

"Funny, Greg asked exactly the same question last night. I didn't afford it, actually." Sara said. "My folks owned a successful B&B back in Tamales Bay. When it closed, I got the furniture."

"Wow. That's lucky," Catherine said. A low beep came from her belt and she took a quick sip of her coffee before flipping her phone open. "It's Lindsay. I left her having coffee with a friend and she wants me to pick her up." She downed the rest of her coffee. "Sorry I can't stay longer."

"Thanks for coming by," Sara said, "We'll have more time later. And thanks for the supplies."

"My pleasure," Catherine smiled and waved to Nick, "I'll see you at the lab tonight."

Sara sat up a little straighter, "What about me?"

"You're on paid leave, remember? Grissom doesn't want you anywhere near the lab," Catherine said. When Sara pouted, she frowned, "Hey! It's Christmas Eve at home! I'd kill for that!"

Sara sighed, "I guess you're right."

"Feel better Sara," Catherine waved.

"Bye," Sara called as the blonde left the room. The front door slammed a few seconds later.

"Thanks for the coffee Nicky," Sara said, putting her mug down on the bedside table. She gave his hand another gentle squeeze. Nick set down his coffee mug and took Sara's hand into his.

"I'm sorry you got woken up," he said.

Sara shrugged, "It's okay. I'm used to it. Besides, it's worth it when I get to see you."

"Aaw, you really mean that?" Nick asked.

"Of course."

Nick smiled at her and gently kissed the palm of her hand. Something uneven against his lips caught his attention and he glanced down. It was the two scars across Sara's palm, the ones Nick had noticed the previous night.

"Sara? What happened to your hand?"

"What?" Sara pulled her hand back and looked at it. "Oh, you mean these," she said, rubbing her thumb over the scars. "They're from a long time ago."

"What happened?"

Sara's eyes stayed fixed on the scars as she spoke, "It was on the day before _it_ happened. My parents got into a fight, started throwing things at each other. I generally avoided them when they fought but I'd forgotten the book I was reading in the living room, so I took a chance – neither of them wanted to hit me on purpose." Sara paused and sighed, "My mom had this thin rectangular vase that my father hated so he smashed the edge and hurled it. He was aiming for her, I think, but he'd had a bit to drink. I put up my hands just in time."

"God…."

"It bled like crazy so they had to take me to the hospital for stitches. The next day, the doctor who'd done the stitches pitched up at our house. He wanted to know how it happened. I guess he knew something was wrong. That night, my parents fought about it – about me. And that was the night it happened. The night that she killed him."

"Jesus Sara," Nick murmured.

Finally her eyes left her palm and met his. "It was an accident Nick. These scars are just the remains of an accident."

"That doesn't mean that it was okay," Nick said, keeping his eyes fixed on hers.

"It wasn't. But it was life then," Sara said, her face serious.

Nick shook his head, "You shouldn't have had to live like that."

Sara sighed, "We've been through this Nick. There's no point in getting bitter about it now." Nick scowled and cast his eyes downward, horrified and enraged by the injustice of the world. He hated that Sara had to grow up in such a brutal place; wished with all his being that he could do something to change it.

As if reading his thoughts, Sara took his hand, "I don't want pity Nick. I don't want my past to affect our present either. It's not something about me that can be changed."

Nick's eyes rose, "I want you to be happy Sara."

"I am happy. I have you."

"So you can just forget everything that happened to you?"

"No, I'll never do that. My past will always be there," Sara said, "But I won't let it spoil what I have now."

Nick paused for a moment, considering her words. Sara was strong – and she was right. "Are you mad at me for asking?"

"Of course not," Sara smiled, putting her palm against his cheek. "Thanks for listening."

He covered her hand with his and leaned in for a kiss. When he pulled back, the tension of the past few minutes was gone, replaced with a cosy sense of companionship.

"So what's in the bag?" Nick asked, gesturing to the purple bag.

"Reading material, chocolate, tea – everything a girl needs to laze at home, with the exception of a romcom."

"You like romantic comedies?"

"Not particularly, but the 'female night-in' cliché stipulates one so I figured I'd mention it."

"So what do you like?" Nick asked.

"I don't really mind. Action, adventure – there's of course nothing like a good mystery movie. I don't watch horror. I get enough of that at work."

Nick snorted in agreement.

"I don't dislike romantic comedies, I just find them predictable. With sweeping confessions of love right at the end and promises that the characters probably won't keep."

"Uh… speaking of confessions," Nick said, "I told Grissom about us."

Sara's face fell. "You did?"

"I didn't intend to. He was going to come over here and find out anyway."

"How did he react?" Sara's mind was reeling with questions. How would Grissom take it? Was he happy? Did he resent it? Did he regret having missed his chance with her? No, that wasn't possible. Grissom had made it clear that there would never be a romantic relationship between them. There relationship was friendly, amicable – platonic. But how would it affect the lab? Would they be forced to change shifts?

"He was happy," Nick said, "But he suggested we keep it a secret – just in case Ecklie's on the prowl."

"So he wasn't mad?"

"Nope, seemed to know about it already," Nick shrugged.

"Do the others know?"

"No, Grissom said he wants to see who figures it out first," Nick said with a mischievous flick of his eyebrows.

Sara shook her head incredulously, "Typical."

"Still, it's gonna be fun to see," Nick said.

"Only because we're in on it – we already know the answer," Sara corrected him. "I'd hate to have to guess at other people's relationships." A wide yawn escaped her.

"You gonna go back to sleep?" Nick asked.

Sara shook her head, "Nah. I'd rather sleep later. I feel like I'm burning daylight by sleeping so much."

"You need the rest," Nick pointed out.

"Yes, rest, but not a coma."

Nick thought for a moment and snapped his fingers. "I know what you could do!"

"What?"

Nick got up, "Stay right where you are. I'll be back!"

Sara frowned, "Nick? Where are you going?"

"To fetch it!" Nick yelled over his shoulder as he raced from the room.

"It?" Sara called behind him. But it was too late, Nick was already out the door.

Sara sighed to herself and lay down, staring up at the ceiling. Boredom was going to set in – and fast. She leant over to pull out the Cosmo when the phone rang. After her message tone, Andy's voice sounded from the machine.

"Sara, it's me again. _Where are you?_ Is everything okay? I hope you're not doing one of those crazy shifts that keeps you there for like 36 hours!" He paused and took a deep breath, "Look, our DA called your supervisor and left a message for you but I thought I should tell you – that is if you don't already know. Laura's been released. Call me as soon as you can. I'm getting worried here Sara Lou – don't leave me hanging!"

The line went dead. So did Sara's heart. Her mind screamed. _Released?_ Good. God.

**A/N dun dun dun… so, I'd really love some reviews – hint hint. They really do motivate me to update sooner :)**


	10. C: 10

**A/N Thank you all for your super reviews – I heart you all! Just a note about this chapter: it seems every one is more drastic than the last but this really is an extreme one, so fasten your seatbelts. I also wanted to tell you:**

**I've pretty much ignored Tina's existence throughout the story so lets just pretend she never existed (wink). Also, about Greg. I respect him greatly as a character. I think he is a super guy, not the naïve clownish kid he's often portrayed as. However, that doesn't mean I can resist using him for comic relief. He has an innocence that is plenty fun to play with. **

**I know some of you were concerned that Sara has been a bit weak and... I agree with you. My justification? She's seems to be a character who bottles up emotions and so, I like to think that the story shows what might happen to her if the whole can of worms was thrown open.**

**Merry Christmas to all of you – I hope it's magical! ENJOY!**

**C: 10**

"I don't see any reason why this relationship shouldn't be a success," Grissom's voice floated through the crack in his office door. Greg, who had been walking past, stopped dead and put his ear to the door.

Catherine spoke next, "Well, there's no doubt that it's definitely… love. And it did start as a friendship."

Greg's eyes widened in shock. Could it be true? _Catherine and Grissom._ He leaned against the door, desperate to hear more. He knew that Nick had his eye on Sara, especially after the speech he'd given when she was attacked but Greg had never suspected this.

"Well then dear, lets just keep this amorous secret to ourselves for now – for everyone's sake," Grissom's voice came. Greg's mind immediately pounced on his supervisor's choice of words: _dear_?

"Yeah, we don't need Ecklie on our case now," Catherine agreed. Grissom nodded in agreement.

"Where's Nick?" Grissom asked, picking up a file from his desk.

"In the layout room. We'll finish this later?" Catherine asked, turning to the door. Greg jumped and hurried down the corridor. He didn't want to be discovered eaves dropping on the boss.

"Yeah," Grissom nodded. Catherine turned and walked from the room. Grissom took a sip of his coffee and set the mug down on his desk. He headed for the door but stopped when a woman stepped into his path.

"Dr. Grissom?" she held out her hand, "I'm here about one of your employees…Sara Sidle."

xxx

Sara pulled into her parking spot and switched off the car. She couldn't stay at home. Her mind was reeling from the news about her mother's release. The only thing that was going to clear her head was work. It had been okay while Nick was with her. He was a good distraction, especially when he arrived with the famous 'it'. But when he'd left, she found herself alone in the silence of her apartment. Alone with her thoughts. She'd always loved to sit and just think – to reason things out – but this was different. This was mind-boggling. Her mind was going to drive her mad with questions and fears she could not answer and so, an hour after Nick had left, she'd thrown on a pair of jeans and a knitted white polo neck and made a dash for the lab.

Sara knew Grissom wouldn't be happy to see her there, nor Nick – Heaven help her if she encountered Ecklie- but they would have to understand. Her body was aching with weakness and a splitting headache was slowly burning its way through her forehead but she didn't care. She couldn't just sit at home pretending to rest. She wasn't going to get any. Her mind was just going to drive her crazy if she didn't focus it on something else.

Sara grabbed her blue Forensics jacket from the passenger seat and pulled it on then got out of the SUV and headed for the lab entrance.

xxx

"I'm sorry. That's not my choice," Grissom shook his head. He stared across his desk at the woman, still wondering how she'd found him.

"It's Christmas Eve. Please, Dr Grissom." She rose from her seat, imploring him with her eyes. Grissom shook his head. Sara would kill him if he assented. The woman sighed in defeat and began pacing around his office. She paused, frowning at his foetal pig, then continued walking, eyeing out the specimens. Moments later, she disappeared behind his shelf of beetles.

Grissom sighed. He felt torn. Part of him wanted to help, but the other part wanted to shout at the woman – to throw her out of his office – and demand over and over again why she'd done what she did to Sara. Instead, all he did was sit and shake his head. A hoarse cough sounded from down the corridor and Grissom sat up straight. Sara didn't always listen to him, particularly when it came to her health, but he'd never expected her to come to the lab in her condition.

"Grissom?" Sara strode into his office. Her hair was untidy, with pieces out of place, and her skin was pasty.

"Sara?!"

"Griss, I need a case. Anything – please! If there isn't one, I'll help the other guys," She begged.

Grissom frowned, "You're supposed to be resting."

"Grissom, I know you spoke to the San Francisco DA. That means you _know_ I can't sit idle right now," Sara said. He noticed her wringing her hands – something she only did when she was wired - and sighed, torn yet again between what he wanted to do and what he knew he should.

"Sara?" The woman emerged from behind the shelf.

Sara's blood ran cold. She froze, what colour was left draining from her face, and her eyes widened in disbelief. She turned around and gasped in shock. In an instant, dread was written across her face. The woman took a step forward and she found herself stepping back until her back hit a wall.

Grissom's heart squeezed painfully in his chest at her reaction. He instantly wanted to kick himself for ever allowing Sara to enter his office while the woman was there. She looked bewildered and scared, like a small child – a far cry from the stoically composed Sara Sidle he knew. The woman took a step closer, reaching out towards her and she pressed herself further into the wall. Her eyes glazed over and she stared in shock at the woman in front of her. Grissom panicked and rose from his seat.

"Sara," he said calmly. "Sara, it's okay."

But she wasn't listening. Her eyes became glassy and her face expressionless. Her breathing became faster. Grissom took a tentative step towards her: he didn't want her to pass out. Not again. But Sara turned her head away from the woman to him. Her eyes were pained and hard. He knew that look: she was disappointed with him. She felt betrayed.

"Sara," the woman cooed. Sara's eyes snapped away from Grissom to the woman and she smiled, "Don't worry. It's mom. I know it's been a long time, but I've missed you so much."

Sara shook her head. This was just too much. Too soon. She pushed herself off the wall and bolted.

xxx

"You guys are not going to believe this!" Greg rounded the corner into the layout room and skidded to a halt in front of Warrick and Nick.

"Whoa there! What's up?" Nick asked.

"Yeah, where's the fire?" Warrick added.

Greg shook off the comment. "What's the department policy about relationships?"

Nick's smile dropped into a frown, "Why?" He asked flatly.

"It looks like there's a blossoming relationship on our team," Greg said.

"Who?" Warrick interrupted before Nick could interrupt.

"Grissom and Catherine. I just overheard them talking about it," Greg said proudly. "They said it's definitely love and that they're going to keep it a secret."

Relief flowed through Nick. His and Sara's secret was still safe. Beside him, Warrick frowned deeply.

"Are you sure, Greg? I really doubt that," he said. Nick looked over at his friend. Underneath his frown he looked….worried. Worried and disappointed. Was it possible that Warrick was attracted to Catherine? The two had always had great chemistry, but he hadn't noticed anything different between them lately. Granted, they had been working many cases together, but there was nothing unusual about that. Still, Nick reminded himself, I've been a little caught up with someone else lately.

Quick footsteps suddenly sounded down the corridor, drawing closer to the layout room. The three CSIs turned to see Sara fleeing down the corridor. Her blue jacket was only half on and flying out behind her as she raced past the room, obviously upset.

"Was that…?" Greg asked, his voice trailing off.

"Sara!" Nick shot from his chair and followed her.

"Isn't Sara supposed to be resting at home?" Warrick asked, frowning.

Greg nodded and shrugged, "Well, there's our next department romance. He's head over heels for her."

"Oh yeah," Warrick nodded in agreement. He looked out the window and saw Grissom hurrying down the corridor after Nick and Sara. "I wonder what's up."

xxx

Sara burst through the lab's front doors, glad to be out. It was dark –almost midnight – and snowing heavily outside. The streets were quieter than usual because most people were celebrating Christmas with their families but Sara hardly noticed. Her muscles ached, her throat and lungs were burning, her mind was clouded with panic and dizzy nausea swirled around her head. But she wasn't going to stop. She had to get the Hell away. Even if she'd wanted to, she doubted her feet would've stopped.

"Sara!" a voice behind her yelled.

She ran faster. Tears streamed unchecked. Her mother's face flashed in her mind. She saw her father's pasty drunk face, her mother's red panic, the knife, the blood. The smell of it was all around her. She felt every injury she'd ever gotten as a result of their fights: the broken arm, the numerous fractures, phantom cuts and bruises, and worst – the heartache of guilt, of believing that it was all her fault. It was overwhelming her, smothering her. She'd never wanted to go back there but seeing her mother again had opened Pandora's box. Now she had to escape it.

Tiny lights began to flash in front of her eyes as she rounded the corner into a park. Her entire body was drained, weakened, and the cold air caught in her throat, dry and stinging, making her lungs want to explode. Her ears began to ring and a flash of hot pain sped across her head. Suddenly, her foot caught on a concealed rock and she crashed to the ground.

Sara lay gasping in the snow. Her body shook with pain and exhaustion. Her mind was too distressed to rationalize her way to composure. Slowly, she curled up into a ball, letting the aching of her limbs and mind overwhelm, then consume, her. A choking cough rose in her, grating her throat. When it subsided, she shivered. Her tears were warm on her cheeks but the cold snow was soaking her clothes. She sniffed miserably. This was nothing like her. She wasn't one to run away from her problems. Shame settled in her heart as she realised what she'd done. Not even when she was young had she openly fled a problem. Never before.

Suddenly, a hand settled on her shoulder. Sara started and pulled away.

"Sara?" It was Nick. He sounded both hurt and concerned. He was kneeling in the snow beside her and leaned to brush a tear from her cheek. His eyes bespoke worry, desperation and intense love. That was it. She fell forward into his arms, pushing both of them backwards onto the snow. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.

"Shh, it's okay," he soothed.

"I can't do it Nick. I can't face her now," she cried.

"Who?"

"My mother. I walked into Grissom's office 'cause I wanted an assignment to get my mind off her and she was there. Just standing there. I panicked."

"And you ran?" Nick asked gently. Sara nodded and he understood. So that was why she'd been running away. He gave her a squeeze and ran his hand up and down her back to soothe her. His touch sent a shiver through her that turned into warmth. When she finally calmed down, she sniffed and moved in his arms.

"Pathetic, huh?" she asked, looking up at him.

"What?"

"Me." Sara cast her eyes down in shame.

"Why?" Nick frowned.

"I ran away. Like a kid."

Nick shook his head, "You're not pathetic Sara. You're stronger than you think. You're just having a bad time lately. Everybody breaks down sometimes, no matter how strong they are."

"I tried so hard to stand there but my feet just wouldn't," Sara said softly, staring ahead of her. "The last time a saw her, she was on the other side of a glass panel and refusing to sign my adoption papers."

"It's easier to get over something when it's not right there in front of you. If you haven't seen your mother since then, then I think you took it pretty well, considering," Nick said hopefully.

"Ha. Ha. That's sweet Nicky, but it's nonsense," Sara chuckled wryly.

"No! I'm serious!" Nick said, giving her a squeeze.

"Hmmm, I'll believe you," Sara said softly.

"C'mon, let's get you home," Nick suggested, "It's Christmas Eve and you're lying soaking wet in a park."

Sara chuckled and sat up from his chest. "Thanks for coming after me."

Nick brushed a wet strand of hair behind her ear and smiled. "Anytime, angel."

They decided to head back to the lab so Sara could get her house keys out of her locker and pick up her car. When they arrived, Grissom was outside the front door, pacing.

"Sara!" He cried, rushing towards them. "Where on earth did you go?" He was obviously concerned and feeling guilty for allowing her mother in.

Sara ignored his question and clenched her jaw. She narrowed her eyes, "What were you doing with her?"

"She came looking for you." Grissom said plainly: he didn't know what else to say to her.

"So you just welcomed her in?"

"She desperately wants to see you. You know you can't pretend she doesn't exist," Grissom countered. Sara shook her head and ran a hand through her hair. She'd come to the lab to get away from all this and it angered her that her personal problems had managed to pervade the one place that she could find a sort of peace. Grissom put a tentative hand on her arm. "Look Sara, I know it hurts. You shouldn't have to deal with this now. I'm sorry, but you do."

"He's right," Nick intoned. Sara cast a shocked look in his direction but he continued. "Sara, when you pulled me outta that glass box and told me about Kelly, I either wanted to never see her, or to kill her. I didn't want to visit her but when I did, I felt better. If you don't speak to her, you'll spend the rest of your life wondering - and I know you don't want that on your shoulders."

After a moment of silence, Sara sighed. "Where is she?"

Grissom gave her a smile of reassurance, "In my office."

xxx

Sara stepped into the office. Her mother was sitting in a chair in front of the desk. Her back was to the door. Sara took a deep breath and sat down in Grissom's chair. She remained silent, carefully noting the changes in her mother's appearance. She was shorter than Sara remembered her, and a little broader too. Her skin had lost some of its former smoothness and wrinkles had crept in around her mouth and eyes. Her hair had always been brown like Sara's and long, but her chin-length cut now showed streaks of grey. Most haunting though, were her eyes. Hazel, and piercing, they spoke of the trials she had endured, the years of constant condemnation she had lived in marriage, the abuse and degradation. But her eyes also showed sadness, regret and longing. And it was that that began to gnaw at Sara's resolve.

"Sara?" Laura questioned softly. Sara locked her jaw, forcing herself to show no reaction, and continued to watch her mother. "Honey, you're so grown-up," Laura continued, reaching across the table for Sara's hand. "And so beautiful." Sara immediately pulled her hand back into her lap. Laura bowed her head in defeat. "Sara, I know you're angry. But I had no choice. If I hadn't done it, he would have killed me – maybe even you. You know how much he'd drink, especially that night."

"Why didn't you tell somebody?" Sara fought to keep her voice cold.

"You know it wouldn't have changed anything."

Sara shook her head sadly, not taking her eyes off her. Silence descended on them as she took time to think over what her mother had said. Her eyes rose to her mother's face again, seeking the exception. There had always been one when she was growing up – always a 'but'. Her mother looked sad now – remorseful – but Sara had learnt that nothing came without a price. This couldn't just be a happily-ever-after reunion. Her mother wanted something from her – surely she did?

Laura frowned. Her daughter was scrutinising her, obviously suspicious. Her stomach tightened as a wave of regret passed over her. She wondered if perhaps finding Sara had been a bad idea. But she had wanted to see her so badly, longed to find her and see that she was okay. She'd waited over 20 years to get back to her daughter and now all she really wanted was to be a part of her life. She realised that she'd made huge mistakes when Sara was young. She'd put her own struggle against her husband in front of her daughter – and Sara had been hurt in the worst ways because of it. She had no idea how the years had altered her child, but she hoped that something of the intelligent, bright-eyed, compassionate girl had remained. As she looked on her daughter now, she wondered if that was possible. Sara's eyes were dark – darker than they were when she was young – and jaded. In them, Laura saw for the first time a deep strength, an intensity of character that she hadn't noticed before. To her surprise, though, Sara did not look on her with the anger she had expected, but rather with a profound sadness. She let her eyes wonder over the rest of her daughter. She was pale – almost unnaturally so – and…wet?

"Sara, you're soaking wet. What happened?" she asked, frowning with concern.

"I'm fine," Sara replied flatly. She paused briefly, then asked, "Why wouldn't you sign the papers?"

"Papers?"

"Please don't tell me you forgot," Sara said, her voice tinged with scorn.

"The adoption papers?" Laura sighed. "You were all I had left. I didn't want to lose you. My only child. I wanted to be your mother – not some stranger."

"So you left me in foster care – with no mother at all?" Sara shot back, her eyes suddenly blazing.

Laura shook her head, "I had no idea." She cast her eyes downwards. "I was selfish. I'm sorry, but I did what I thought was best. I know you're hurting – that you're mad Honey, but please, it's Christmas Eve. You're obviously not feeling well. I don't expect you to love me. I just want to have you in my life." Her voice broke towards the end, forcing her to take huge gulps of air so she could finish and tears of sorrow trickled slowly from her eyes.

"I…" Sara opened her mouth to argue but closed it. Nick's words echoed in her head. She'd held onto unrelenting bitterness towards her mother for so long but now she was here in front of her, begging to be allowed to love her. Her heart ached at the sight of her sitting like this, obviously desperate. It had been easy to hate her when she wasn't there, but now she was before her, offering what Sara had yearned for since her father's death: the unconditional love of a parent. But could she forgive her? Sara forced herself to look at her mother again, to face the woman who had haunted her for the past 25 years. She felt a drop on her hand and suddenly realised that tears were flowing from her own eyes, too. And that decided it.

Sara put a trembling hand across the table, onto her mother's rough fingers. Laura looked up at her with hope in her eyes.

"I can't guarantee anything," Sara said softly. For a moment, Laura's eyes narrowed in uncertainty, but soon the meaning of the words reached her and an elated smile crossed her face. Suddenly, the tension in the room dissipated and she rose from her chair. She went around the desk, to Sara, who also stood up, and carefully reached out for her. At first, Sara seemed reluctant, but she soon relaxed into her mother's embrace. Tears streamed down her face and a huge weight lifted from her shoulders. When the two broke apart a few minutes later, both felt enormous relief.

"So… you're a CSI now?" Laura asked.

"Yeah."

"Boyfriend?"

"Uh huh," Sara nodded.

"I'd like to meet him."

"Sure," Sara nodded knowingly. She knew what her mother was doing: checking up to see if Nick was good enough. She knew the question that would follow.

"So what's he like?"

"His name is Nick. He's compassionate, devoted, romantic – and probably the reason I came to talk to you," Sara said.

"Wow, then I really would like to meet him."

"Where are you staying?" Sara asked.

"Nowhere. I have to get back to San Francisco. I violated my parole to come out here."

Sara raised an eyebrow but said nothing, "So you're leaving?"

"Yes, for a while. I have to get back before my parole officer finds out." She winked.

"I see," Sara nodded.

"Well," Laura said, "I guess I'd better get going. I have to check in tomorrow morning – in Frisco."

"Already?"

Laura nodded. She wrapped her arms around Sara, pulling her to her. "Thank you for letting me back into you life. I really want to know you and I'm going to miss you so much."

"But you'll keep in touch?" Sara asked, surprisingly reluctant to lose her so soon.

"Of course. I'll get your number from that nice receptionist - Judy, is it?"

Sara nodded and squeezed her mother, "I'll see you soon, mom."

As she watched her mother leave, Sara felt totally drained. The adrenaline was fast fading, leaving her weary and worn-out. Once Laura was out of sight, she flopped back into Grissom's chair and sighed. Her body and mind were aching and all she wanted was sleep. She leaned back in the chair, surprised at how comfortable it was and closed her eyes. That was how Nick and Grissom found her ten minutes later.

They stopped at the doorway to Grissom's office and Nick leaned against the doorframe as he watched her sleep.

"I think you'd better take her home," Grissom whispered.

"Yeah. Things will be better for her now that she's fixed it with her mother," Nick agreed. "I had no idea of what Sara's life was like. She's always so busy and so cheerful. She shows nothing of her past."

Grissom cocked his head to the side, "Did you ever listen to that song, _Hotel California_?" he asked. Nick shook his head.

"_How they dance in the courtyard, sweet summer sweat. Some dance to remember; some dance to forget_," Grissom quoted. "I guess Sara's constant working was a way for her to forget her past."

Nick nodded, used to his insight, which was usually correct. It was typical Grissom.

"Hey! What are you staring at?" Warrick asked as he and Greg walked up. He craned his head to see into the office and saw Sara. "O-ho. I see."

"What is she doing here?" Greg asked.

"Uh…" Nick opened his mouth but was luckily interrupted by a new voice.

"Grissom!" It was Catherine. She frowned when she saw them all standing outside the office and leaned to follow their eyes. "Poor thing," she said upon seeing Sara. "She must be exhausted."

"You have no idea," Nick muttered.

"So who was that woman she was talking to? It looked pretty tense?" Catherine turned to Grissom.

"Just a friend from San Francisco," Grissom answered smoothly.

"Oh," Catherine said. She glanced at her watch and smiled. "Hey guys?" they turned and looked at her, "Merry Christmas. It's past twelve."

Suddenly an idea hit Nick. He cast a glance at Sara, who was still fast asleep then turned to the others, "So what are you all doing after shift today?"

**A/N almost there! Almost finished! Just one or two more chapters (most likely one) and I'll be finished. Thanks so much for reading and… please drop a review. I'd love to know your thoughts and mail you a bag of virtual MnM's for your efforts :)**


	11. C: 11

**A/N Thanks for the reviews guys! I really appreciate them. I got my exam results back – big smiles (got 6 A's out of 7 subjects). Thanks for sticking with me through this story (even if you didn't always review, which, I know most of you didn't wink wink)**

**For the last time, I hope you enjoy!**

**C: 11**

Sara's run into - and away from- with her mother had drained her to the point of collapse. It served to worsen the physical stress she'd been under but her relief at the reconciliation with her mother had lifted a huge weight from her soul and the result was a contented –albeit exhausted - CSI.

By the time Nick stopped the Tahoe outside Sara's apartment building, she was overtired and barely awake. The stress had intensified into a migraine that made it hard for her to see straight. Her arms felt foreign, somehow detached from her body, and she stumbled and grabbed the car door for support. Nick closed his own door and went around the car to her. He pulled her to him and put her arm across his shoulders so he could support her. Halfway up the stairs to her front door, he decided to carry her instead. He took her house keys and pulled her onto his back. Sara wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. She closed her eyes, laying her head down across his shoulders, and giggled softly.

"Nobody's piggybacked me in ages," she said.

"I bet you wouldn't have let them, even if they'd offered," Nick replied knowingly. He felt Sara smile against his shoulder.

"And how did you get to know me so well, cowboy?" she asked.

Nick shrugged, "Five years of wanting you, I guess." He paused then twisted his head around to look at her. "And babe? I think you're more the cowboy in this situation," he said with a wink.

Sara giggled and he felt her soft lips at his neck. "I'll ride you anytime," she whispered into his ear. Her voice was low and suggestive and Nick felt a wave of heat rush through him. Her warm breath in his ear had suddenly made his pants feel tighter.

"Sara," Nick gritted his teeth. "You know I'd jump at that offer anytime, but you need rest and I've gotta get back to the lab."

Sara sighed in response, too tired to argue, and snuggled into his shoulder. Nick stopped in front of the her door and fumbled to find the key. From down the hallway, a door creaked open.

"Merry Christmas, Mrs Maitland," Sara called, not lifting her head or opening her eyes. Surprised that she'd been caught so easily, the old woman gasped and hastily pulled her door shut. Sara let out a low, satisfied chuckle and Nick reached back and pinched her leg playfully. "Hey!" Sara frowned. "What was that for?"

Nick smiled smartly but said nothing. He pushed the door open and made a beeline for the bedroom. He stopped with his back to the bed and leaned back so Sara slid off his back and onto the mattress. As soon as she touched its cool softness, she sighed happily. Nick turned and looked over her. Her jeans were still wet and clinging to her legs and her hair was drying in loose curls around her face. Her skin was still pale, like porcelain, but the cold wind had turned her cheeks rosy and her dark lashes splayed over them like deep chocolate. A small, satisfied smile lingered on her lips and Nick leaned down onto the bed above her and pressed his lips to hers. At first, Sara didn't respond but soon Nick found her tongue gently nudging his lips. He was all to happy to deepen the kiss. Her hands found their way into his hair, drawing him deeper. She kissed him hungrily – as if her very life was coming from him – and when they broke apart, both were breathless. Nick let out a deep breath and put his forehead against hers. Their eyes met and seconds later, so did their lips. The kiss was hot, demanding, and sent shots of heat racing from their lips through their bodies to the tips of their fingers and toes. Their hands began to wonder over each other, searching for skin. Nick shivered when Sara's hands settled on his butt, pressing him against her. His hand found the hem of her polo neck and slid underneath, caressing her stomach with a featherlike touch. Beneath him, Sara shivered and moaned, painfully aware of the heat building between them. In a heartbeat, her hands were at his shirt, tugging it up.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

Nick swore and jerked himself back from Sara. He pulled his cellphone from his belt and flipped it open.

"Yes?" he demanded, breathless. He stopped, forcing himself to control his voice. "Sorry, Greg. What can I do for you?" The was a pause and Nick sighed. "You're joking? Okay, I'll just make sure Sara's okay and meet you there." He closed the phone and looked sadly at the woman beneath him. "I've gotta go babe."

Sara sighed, "Okay. I guess I can't argue with the powers that be."

Nick leaned down and kissed her softly on her forehead, "Rain check?"

"Sure," Sara smiled, pushing herself up from the bed. "You'll be back after shift, right?"

He nodded, "You bet. Now lets, get you into those cute little pyjamas of yours and into bed."

xxx

Seven hours later, Sara woke to the sound of laughter coming from the living room. She frowned at the sound, assuming it to be the TV and cautiously stretched her body. Her leg muscles ached as if she'd overdone it at the gym but the rest of her felt well rested so she lifted her head briefly then let it flop back onto the pillow. She felt cosy in the bed; content to just remain in the warm cocoon it formed around her. Sara opened her eyes and let them float lazily over her bedroom. It was morning outside and daylight was poking through at the edges of her curtain. The clock on the bedside table indicated that it was close to 9am. Sara groaned and rolled over. She would usually ignore Christmas day and try to sleep for as long as possible so it would go away fast. But today she stopped as she remembered the events of the previous day. This Christmas was hopefully going to be different; she had Nick now.

The sounds from the living room got louder and Sara sat up and frowned. That could not be the TV. The door opened and Nick slid carefully into the room. A goofy red Christmas hat was perched on his head and he was holding another.

"Hey, you're awake," he said with a smile, coming over to sit on the bed. He pulled her to him and put his arms around her. "How you feeling?"

"Uh…good. What's going on out there?" Sara flicked her brow at the door.

Nick smiled. "Merry Christmas Miss Sidle," he said cryptically and slid the red hat onto her head. He leaned down and kissed her tenderly.

"You still haven't answered my question," Sara said when he pulled away.

"Why don't you come have a look?" Nick asked with a mischievous smile. He went over to her dresser and pulled out a blue Harvard sweater and tossed it to her. "It'll be cold out there 'til we get the heater fired up," he said with a shrug. Sara frowned suspiciously but pulled it on anyway. She slid off the bed and went to open the bedroom door, peering cautiously out.

"Hey Tweety! You're finally up!" Greg called to her from the couch. Sara opened the door further and found the others there too. Lindsay was seated on the cough next to Greg and both seemed absorbed in a game of Need for Speed on the Xbox – _it_ – that Nick had brought by for her the previous evening. Catherine and Warrick were busy in the kitchen, situated suspiciously close to one another at the stove. Grissom was standing at the bookshelf beside her desk, scanning a book with keen interest. All of them were wearing Christmas hats and turned to look at her as she emerged from the room. Her shock must have shown on her face because Warrick came over and waved an oven mitt in her face.

"Hello? Merry Christmas Sara. You in there?," He said with a hint of amusement in his voice. She snapped back to reality and smiled at him. He pulled her into a hug.

"Merry… Christmas," she said slowly. When he released her she cast her eyes to the others. "What are you all doing here?"

Grissom shrugged, "Celebrating Christmas."

"It was Nick's idea," Catherine explained, coming to stand beside Warrick. "He thought it would be nice if the team spent Christmas together."

A pair of hands on her shoulders announced Nick's presence behind her and Sara turned to smile at him. "Thanks Tricky Nick. This is really sweet of you," she said. He shrugged it off and smiled lopsidedly. "No," Sara insisted, "I mean it. This is gonna be my first Christmas with friends in a really long time."

"Then we'll just have to make it extra special, won't we?" Nick said with a wink. Sara raised her eyebrows at him and let her eyes wonder. The curtains were open and snow was falling softly outside. Inside, the room alight with tiny fairy lights hanging from the ceiling, and a small Christmas tree had been set up in the corner of the room.

"Food should be ready in about 10 minutes," Warrick announced proudly brandishing a spatula.

"So finish up this little war of yours," Catherine added, leaning over to Lindsay and Greg whose eyes were glued to the TV.

"This, is no _little war_!" Greg countered, sneaking a glance at his young blonde opponent. "This is huge. This is a matter of pride, of respect, of skill, of-"

"Not losing to a twelve-year old?" Lindsay added with a cheeky grin. On the screen, her car pulled past Greg's on the track, leaving a trail of virtual dust rising into his half of the screen.

"Hey!" Greg yelped, "Now that just wasn't right. I thought I'd be nice to you but now this _is_ WAR missy!"

"Try me, _newbie_," Lindsay shot back, jamming her fingers down on the control and glaring determinedly at the TV.

Catherine rolled her eyes and Sara chuckled: Greg was one of the most intelligent people she knew, but he could be so juvenile at times. It often annoyed her when she was working a grim case and he joked around, but she realised that it helped lighten the mood and made her job less macabre. Besides, life couldn't always be serious, could it?

Sara followed the older woman into the kitchen and peered over her shoulder.

"Chicken, veggies and…Wow, _tofu_? I had no idea you guys knew how to cook vegetarian!" she cried in delight.

"It's all Warrick," Catherine said, playfully punching him in the arm, "He's quite the chef."

"Nah," Warrick said modestly, "It was Cath's idea to have a Christmas dinner for 'breakfast' – the menu was entirely her idea."

"Well, it smells delicious. Thanks," Sara said, smiling sincerely. She turned from them and looked over to Nick, who was standing behind the couch, yelling something about Nitro at Greg. Lindsay was cackling with satisfaction beside him, clearly winning again. Grissom had taken up a seat at the desk now, totally absorbed in the book. It was one that he'd given Sara for Christmas when she'd first arrived in Vegas. As if he sensed her watching him, he looked up and met her eyes. She smiled and mouthed a silent 'thank you' and flashed her eyes to Nick. Grissom nodded in understanding, happy that she was content for him to know about her relationship with the Texan.

"Food's up!" Catherine called a few moments later. Grissom, Greg and Lindsay all got up and headed for the kitchen but Sara lingered behind. she sighed and leaned back against the wall behind her. Her eyes flowed over a scene she'd never have expected to see in her apartment. They looked like a huge, rather odd, family that was celebrating Christmas in the relaxed, cheerful way it always did. She smiled at the thought that she did really have a family, even though she barely knew her real mother. Grissom, serious and knowledgeable, was like a father; Catherine, his voice of reason and wingman, a mother to Lindsay, and the younger CSIs. She, Nick and Warrick- Grissom's children in a way, always looking to him for advice- and Greg, the endearing baby of the family completed it. And that completed her. For the first time in a long time, Sara felt content and whole. For once, she lacked nothing and felt totally right in her place in the world. It was liberating and Sara smiled happily.

"What are you smiling at?" Nick's voice came from behind her. Sara turned to find him holding a big shoebox wrapped in silver paper with a huge blue bow.

"Just Christmas," Sara said with a shrug. "What's that?"

"This," Nick said, "is for you." He held out the box and Sara accepted it with a curious smile. "Open it."

She cast him a grin and ripped the paper off to reveal a, brown cardboard box, which solicited a suspicious frown at Nick. She pulled open the box and found a black cowboy hat and a red scarf. Nick took the Stetson out of the box and popped it on her head. Sara smiled.

"And the scarf?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, that you can use for just about anything, but I personally like to put it here," Nick said. He pulled it from the box and tied it around her neck, just as a cowboy might wear an ascot.

She smiled, cast a glance at the others who were absorbed in dishing up food, then leaned forward to kiss him.

"Thank you Nick. This is really sweet," she said softly then took a step back and pouted, posing like a model. "So how do I look?"

"Beautiful," Nick said, flashing her his token charm-filled smile and pulled her against his chest "Now," he added, his voice low, "How's about that ride we discussed last night, cowgirl?"

The End

**A/N Well, that concludes it. Thank you to everyone who has read – and much more importantly, reviewed – this story. You guys make it all worthwhile. And… for the last time, I implore you: review…_please_?**


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